Granted
by Estelle Amethyst
Summary: Ever since he was a child, Aragorn wished he could have met his Father. For years he yearned to know what his Father was like; what his life would have been like had his Father lived. During a time of tribulation, Aragorn's life is in danger and in order to protect him, the Valar decide to step in. Breaking the law of time, Aragorn is thrust into the past years before he was born!
1. Chapter 1

_**This is my first Pre-LOTR fanfic that I have been wanting to write for a very long time now. I do hope you enjoy reading!**_

* * *

- _ **Granted-**_

Aragorn sighed as he walked through the forest of Mirkwood. He had once again been thinking of his Father, Arathorn II. He couldn't help but wonder what Arathorn was like, who he was, and what his life would have been like had his Father lived. But the cursed Orcs just had to come and take his Father away from him when he had been merely two years of age. His mother had died soon afterwards in Rivendell and Aragorn was taken in by Elrond and raised as one of the Elrondions. He loved his adoptive family, but he yearned to learn of his Father, but no one would speak of the man. Sure he had heard tales during his travels with the Rangers but that wasn't enough for Aragorn. He needed to know more.

He pressed on, wondering if he should stop by the Mirkwood Palace or continue onwards towards Laketown. He was unable to decide when a familiar Elf dropped down onto the path before him.

"Estel!" The Elf happily greeted and Aragorn blinked when he saw that it was Lasgalen, the middle child in the Thranduilion family.

"Lasgalen?"

"This is unexpected! What brings you here to Mirkwood?" Lasgalen asked after embracing the Ranger. He was oddly overexcited to see him there and immensely relieved.

"I was only passing through-" Aragorn began to say before Lasgalen interrupted.

"Passing through? No, no, you must come to the Palace!"

"I-"

"Legolas has not seen you in ages, Estel! Nor have we! If he were to learn you passed through Mirkwood without even stopping for a visit, he will be furious. And you know how Legolas can be." Lasgalen said and Aragorn sighed, shaking his head with a slight smile gracing his lips. "Actually, it would be better you come to the Palace, after everything that has happened."

Aragorn frowned deeply at this. Something had happened? Hopefully nothing serious.

"Very well. I suppose I can spare a few days." Aragorn glanced over his shoulder for a moment before turning to face Lasgalen, who frowned.

"Is everything well, Estel? You look as though you have not slept in days!" Then Lasgalen grew concerned. "Or are you falling ill? Do tell me you are not falling ill…Or has something happened?"

"Nay, mellon-nin. I am not ill and nothing has happened. Only exhausted."

"Of course you are. Come, Estel. I will take you to the Palace." Lasgalen slung his bow over his shoulder, moving his long blonde hair out of the way, forest green eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Where have you been these past twenty years? We heard nothing from you and your brothers said you had not been writing for the past eight years or so." Aragorn flinched. There were many reasons as to why he had failed in writing letters to his family.

"Gondor and Rohan." Aragorn vaguely answered. "I was only just given leave."

"For how long?" Lasgalen asked, noting how tense Aragorn appeared. He narrowed his eyes. He could tell the man was hiding something. But what? He supposed he would wait to find out.

"A few months." Aragorn replied and Lasgalen frowned. Aragorn was not his usual self. He appeared to be troubled by something.

"Then you have plenty of time to relax!"

"If only that were so. I am afraid I can spend no longer than three to five days in Mirkwood, mellon-nin." Aragorn regretfully informed the normally cheerful Elf.

"What? Estel-" Lasgalen made to object but Aragorn shook his head.

"It is a serious matter that I would rather not involve any in."

"Estel? Is everything well? Have you visited Rivendell so your family would know you are safe?" Aragorn's silence was Lasgalen's only answer. "They are worried sick, Estel! You abruptly stopped sending letters and Dan and Ro were beside themselves with worry! Not even Legolas could cheer them up! They went searching for you but not even the Rangers knew what became of you."

"I cannot go back." Aragorn barely whispered, bowing his head, grey eyes filled with grief and pain. Now Lasgalen knew something was amiss. Had something happened to Aragorn during his travels?

"Estel…What happened to you?"

"Nothing." Aragorn murmured. A hand grasped his shoulder and Aragorn raised his eyes to meet Lasgalen's comforting gaze.

"Estel, I will not press you to tell me but I do hope you approach someone before it is too late. At least try to relax and forget your troubles while you are here. You do know you are a part of our family here, correct?" Aragorn smiled as he recalled the many fond memories he had of Mirkwood. "Hopefully, you and Legolas will stay out of trouble this time." He heard Lasgalen mutter and laughed.

"Trouble seems to follow us no matter where we go." Aragorn admitted and Lasgalen nodded in agreement.

"Aye, don't we know it!" They entered the gate and the Elves guarding the doors to the Palace opened them to allow them to enter. Everything was just as Aragorn remembered it from several years ago. Lasgalen lead them through many corridors until they finally reached the Throne Room. Pressing a finger to his lips, Lasgalen peered around the corner to see if his Father was busy. Aragorn looked as well only to find the room was empty. "How strange…Ada is normally here…Ah, Darwa!" Lasgalen called when a beautiful she-Elf entered the throne room, her white-blonde locks flowing down her back, a simple crown resting on her head, shimmering blue eyes bright, wearing a simple blue and white dress. She gave Lasgalen an irritated glance.

"Muindor, call me 'Darwa' one more time-" She started to threaten but Lasgalen rolled his eyes.

"Now, now, _Darwa,"_ Aragorn could have sworn he saw her eye twitch. "No need to get so angry. Where is Ada?"

"Have you tried his-Estel!" Aragorn was tackled into a hug by the small she-Elf. He managed to return the embrace, cracking another smile when she pulled away, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "When did you get here? How are you? You're not hurt are you? And Where have you been!" Aragorn once again noticed how she appeared rather…overjoyed to see him. Of course, he had not seen them for nearly two decades but surely that wasn't so long for Elves.

"I only just arrived." He replied but before he could say anything else, Nordawyth spoke.

"Legolas will be pleased to see you! Come, I will take you to Ada!" She took his hand and started leading him away, Lasgalen shaking his head at his sister's excitement. "They must know!"

"They must know what?" Aragorn asked, but no one answered him. They appeared uneasy.

"Would you believe she is the oldest?" Lasgalen rhetorically asked Aragorn while she shot him a glare.

"By a century! It is a good thing I was the first born! You," She poked him in the chest. "were a terrible elfling and still are! And had it not been for me, you would have been in hot water numerous times!" Lasgalen sobered, nodding in agreement.

"Aye, my dear sister, you are correct." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, winking at Aragorn.

"Ungrateful son of an Orc." Was his sister's reply. "To think you are Crown Prince."

"You wound me!" Lasgalen mock-gasped.

"Oh please. So, Estel, how have you been?" She turned to Aragorn.

"Well." Aragorn answered.

"Staying out of trouble, I hope."

"Mostly." Aragorn grinned. "

"So, no, you have not been."

"You know me well, Nordarwyth." Aragorn could already feel most of the tension he was feeling drain away. Nordawyth was a blunt but honest Elleth. She was kind and caring but reckless and to Aragorn, she was the sister he never had. Most of the time, she was a stern Elleth but once any grew to know her, she would loosen up and become one of the best companions any could ever ask for. She took after her Father, the Elvenking Thranduil, greatly. They walked down a grand corridor, reaching Thranduil's office. Not bothering to knock, Nordawyth entered.

"Ada!" She called, startling the three Elves who where inside.

"Nordawyth!" Thranduil sighed, but fondly gazed down at his only daughter, having grown used to her abrupt intrusions. "What is so important that you had to interrupt this meeting?"

"We have a-Oh! Greetings, Lord Glorfindel! And Leg'las! You've returned!" Legolas chuckled, but it was without feeling. His sister was easily distracted as well. Glorfindel blinked for a moment before returning the greeting. It had been many centuries since he had come to visit Mirkwood and he could see the changes to the forest and the Elves within. Legolas, Lasgalen, and Nordawyth had grown into fine young Elves as well. Each were skilled with weapons and in battle but each had a different, unique, personality that set them apart yet seemed to fit them well.

"Muinthel." Nordawyth frowned, noting their expressions.

"Has something happened?" She asked.

"Have you forgotten what today is?" Legolas asked her and Nordawyth blinked before it dawned on her.

"Oh! The day Estel was pronounced supposedly dead!" Everyone stared at the Princess while Lasgalen covered his mouth to hide his smile.

"Nordawyth-" Thranduil began when Nordawyth cut him off.

"Well, I am sorry to inform you that Estel is very much alive."

"What?" The three chimed.

"How would you know, Muinthel? He has not been seen for twenty years and no one has heard from him since-"

"Minor details. I have seen him myself, very much alive." Nordawyth answered, waving a hand dismissively in the air.

"You have seen him? Since when and why have you not said anything?" Legolas demanded.

"As I was saying before, we have a visitor, Ada. One whom we all know and love dearly." Nordawyth moved to the side and Aragorn steeled himself as he entered. For a moment, there was silence. Then...

"ESTEL!" A green blur sped towards Aragorn, who was knocked back by the force of Legolas tackling him into a hug. Dazed, Aragorn found that he was sitting on the ground, Legolas squeezing the life out of him.

"Mellon-nin," Aragorn gasped, patting Legolas's back. "Need to breathe." Legolas did not loosen his hold, his head buried in Aragorn's shoulder, and to Aragorn's surprise, he found that his friend's shoulders were shaking. "Legolas?"

He was crying, Aragorn noted with a pang of guilt. Legolas then pulled away, furious as he gripped the man's shoulders, eyes glittering with unshed tears.

"Where have you been?! Do you know how worried I was when you did not respond to any of our letters!?" He nearly shouted at the mortal, who cringed at the sharpness of his friend's voice. "Vanishing for twenty years then hearing nothing from you for over eight years! We thought you were dead!" Aragorn wisely chose not to say anything, knowing it would only worsen everything. "Not even the Rangers knew where you were!"

Waiting for his friend to stop ranting, which went on for quite while, Aragorn carefully chose to speak.

"Legolas…?" He waited for another moment.

"Thank the Valar you are back!" Legolas slumped over with relief and embraced the man once again. Aragorn hugged the Elf back. It had been so long…

When Aragorn was finally able to stand, he turned to find Thranduil and Glorfindel gazing at him. Shifting uncomfortable, he went to speak when Glorfindel gave him a sharp glance.

"You, Estel, have a lot of explaining to do." Meekly nodding, Aragorn flinched when the Golden Elf approached him, expecting a lecture when Glorfindel pulled him into a strong embrace. "You had us all worried to death, little one." He whispered before stepping away.

"It is relieving to know you are safe and unharmed, Estel." Thranduil gave him a nod of approval and Aragorn grinned. "And I welcome you to my realm."

"Always so serious, Ada." Nordawyth remarked. "I don't think anything fazes you. I, for one, am happy Estel is back!" She wrapped her arms around Aragorn from behind, placing her chin on his shoulder. "The only sane brother I have!"

"Nordawyth." Lasgalen rolled his eyes. "You are the only insane one of us all."

"Am not!"

"Children, now is not the time. Estel appears tired and I do believe he needs rest. Show him to his room, Legolas, then after a few hours, we will meet for dinner." Thranduil cut in and everyone agreed.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Dinner had been eventful, everyone asking Aragorn of his travels. He answered their questions as best he could, not wanting to give too much away. He was already putting their lives in danger by being there. But he could not back down on his promise. He could stay for at least three days then leave. But that would raise questions. Everyone would know he was hiding something and demand to know what it was or refuse to let him leave until he told them. He couldn't tell them. They were already at risk of being hurt.

Though, he was in Mirkwood. That should protect him for some time. He highly doubted someone would actually dare to cross the border and come after him. Only a fool would dare to do so. Nordawyth, he could tell, was watching him carefully. He inwardly groaned. She could see right through him but wisely did not voice any of her suspicions. She would corner him later, that he knew. As soon as dinner was over, Aragorn hightailed it to his room. He did not get far when Nordawyth came.

"Estel."

Yes, she knew.

Aragorn sighed.

"Nordawyth." The Thranduiliell crossed her arms as she stood in front of him.

"You are hiding something." The way she said it made it sound like an accusation.

"It is nothing-"

"Don't even try to pull that line on me. When you say that it is nothing, it always turns out to be something." Nordawyth curtly said. "Are you in danger? Is that what it is? Why you are so reluctant to stay? You are afraid our lives will be at risk since you are here?"

She had hit the nail on the head.

"Nothing gets passed you, Nordawyth." Aragorn remarked, though not unkindly. Sometimes, it was relieving to have a person such as Nordawyth around.

"What is it?"

"A minor thing, I should hope." Aragorn admitted, walking towards his room with Nordawyth in tow. "An assassin who is not pleased with me." The She-Elf rose an eyebrow, whistling softly.

"An assassin! I must say, that is a new one. What did you do?"

"I accidentally foiled their plans of assassinating the King of Rohan."

"Of course you did." Nordawyth shook her head. "One day, you are going to get yourself killed."

"Hopefully, not for a very long time."

"Indeed. Or Legolas will come after you, resurrect you, then murder you himself. Or I will do it for him." Aragorn chuckled.

"I do not think you have to worry, Nordawyth. I am safe here."

"I do not know, Estel…If you could find trouble in Lothlorien, of all places, who knows what trouble you could attract here?" She pointed out.

"True…"

"Actually, you did find trouble the last time you were here!" Nordawyth exclaimed.

"No, that was before the border." Aragorn corrected. "And if it hadn't been for the trap, we would have been mauled by Orcs."

"Oh…Well then." They had reached his room when Nordawyth bid him goodnight and left. He watched her leave before entering his room and plopping down onto the comfortable bed. He had asked Glorfindel not to say anything to Elrond and the twins and Glorfindel, though he did not like keeping information from his Lord and friend, reluctantly relented. The Golden Lord knew there was tension between Aragorn and the family, but Elrond and the twins had been immensely worried when he had vanished without a trace. Truth was, Aragorn wanted to put as much space between him and Rivendell and left suddenly one night. He did regret what had transpired on that night, but never could he face them again. Not after all he had done. Aragorn rolled onto his side, gazing out the balcony doors. Would they ever forgive him? Would they accept him for who he was? It had cut him deeply when they began referring to him as 'Aragorn' and not 'Estel'. It was a change he had never gotten used to. 'Aragorn' was a stranger to him. It wasn't who he was. He was not fit to be a King. Most certainly not the King of Gondor. Who was he to be such a King? A Ranger of the North. A Dunedain. So it was that Aragorn had chosen exile.

He looked at Barahir, resting on his finger. Why him? Why couldn't his Father have been king? Why hadn't his Father chosen to become king? His brow furrowed at the thought. If it hadn't been for the Orcs, would his Father have chosen to become King of Gondor? Would he have taken his rightful place on the throne? Or would he, too, choose to live in exile as Aragorn had? If only he knew his Father…if only he had his Father with him. Turning over once again, Aragorn pulled the blankets up to his shoulders and allowed himself to drift into a deep slumber.

* * *

- _ **Granted-**_

Aragorn sat up with a start, slowly reaching for his dagger. Something was wrong. His grey eyes scanned the room, searching for anything unusual. Standing, Aragorn started for the balcony doors, his sharp hearing catching the soft sound of cloth rustling. Just before he reached them, a shadowy figure leaped out and attacked. Spinning out of harm's way, Aragorn deflected the dagger thrown at him and jumped to the side to avoid being hit.

An assassin.

He could tell the assassin was angered and irritated that he had woken, but Aragorn did not care. He advanced on the assassin, who had pulled out another dagger and lunged. The assassin managed to barely escape being nicked and growled, tackling Aragorn. Aragorn kicked the assassin off of him and rolled away, leaping to his feet immediately. The assassin was quick and nimble, but Aragorn was experienced and clever. Both were seasoned warriors but the assassin, Aragorn knew, was not trained for actual combat. For the assassin, his assignment was to sneak into the palace, slay Aragorn, then escape. He had not been expecting for Aragorn to be a light sleeper and to actually confront him.

"Who sent you?" Aragorn calmly demanded to know.

"Wouldn't you want to know?" the assassin replied, his voice deep.

"I will ask again, and if you answer, I will not harm you." Aragorn said. "Who sent you?"

"You will have to find out for yourself." The assassin threw a poisoned dart at Aragorn, who barely avoided it. The distraction was all the assassin needed to knock Aragorn aside and escape, leaping over the balcony rail and into the tree.

It had been an Elf that had attacked him, Aragorn realized with a start. That was a disturbing thought. His door was flung open and Aragorn looked up from his position on the ground to find Nordawyth running to him.

"Estel? Are you alright?" She asked him, leaning over him, concerned.

"I'm fine." Aragorn answered, sitting up, his arm aching from having fallen on it.

"What happened?" Nordawyth asked, kneeling beside him to check for injuries.

"An assassin." Aragorn answered and she gave him a sharp glance.

"Here? In Mirkwood? How did they get in?" She wondered aloud.

"It was an Elf."

" _What_?" This, Nordawyth had not expected. Aragorn nodded, looking over at the balcony where the assassin had escaped. "An Elf is after you?"

"It appears so." Aragorn murmured, wincing when Nordawyth moved his arm.

"Most likely twisted it."

"Did anyone else…"

"No. My room is next to yours so I am the only one who heard it. Though, I wasn't sure what was happening till I heard your voice." Nordawyth scowled. "To think it was an Elf! Ada must be told-" She made to go when Aragorn grasped her wrist.

"Nordawyth, please, do not tell anyone of what happened." She gave him a look.

"Estel, there is a mad Elf after your head-"

"I cannot endanger them."

"But if they are not told, you will be hurt!" She argued.

"I do not think they will attack for some time. Nordawyth, please understand, I do not want to put your family in danger. If anything were to happen to any of you, I would never forgive myself."

Nordawyth, he knew, was torn. After a moment, she relented.

"Oh, very well…But only this once, Estel! If this happens again, I am telling my Father and Glorfindel." she said and Aragorn accepted this.

"Thank-you, Dara."

Nordawyth nodded. "But I will be watching. Whether you like it or not, I am going to be constantly checking up on you."

"Do be careful, Dara." She gave him an incredulous look.

" _Me?_ _i_ am not the one being hunted."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, yes," She waved a hand uncaringly before sighing. "I doubt I will be getting much sleep tonight."

"Nor I." Aragorn said.

"In that case, come! I will show you the Gardens!" She tugged him up and the two spent the rest of the night wandering the palace, studying pictures hanging in ancient corridors and exploring.

Neither noticed the shadow following close behind, watching Aragorn closely and devising another plan to replace the one that had failed.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

 ** _Sure hope you enjoyed! The next chapter should be up soon! It'll be a few chapters before Aragorn's adventure begins since I wanted to kind of ease into it but it'll come soon enough!_**


	2. Time in Mirkwood

_**Alright! Here is the second chapter of Granted!**_

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn and Nordawyth spent most of the early morning exploring the underground cave of Mirkwood when they decided it was time to turn back.

"Cannot be late for breakfast!" Nordawyth sang as she skipped about the hallway when she came to an abrupt stop. Aragorn, who had been smiling in amusement at the Elleth, frowned when he noticed her expression. That was another unique thing about Nordawyth. She did not hide her emotions as most Elves did which is also what made Aragorn comfortable with being around her.

"What is it?" He asked her.

"Well…" Nordawyth slowly began, looking around. "I just realized that I have no idea how to get back."

Aragorn blinked. "You have no idea how to get back?" He repeated, surprised. She lived here for Valar's sake!

"That's what I said!" Nordawyth huffed. "We happen to be in the Abandoned Halls and I have never been here before."

"Is there a reason they were abandoned?" Aragorn asked but Nordawyth shrugged.

"No idea. No one would tell me anything, not even Ada."

"And that is the first sign that something is terribly wrong." Aragorn remarked mostly to himself.

"I didn't mean to bring us here…I was distracted by the artwork." Nordawyth said in her defense. Aragorn nearly snorted.

"You get distracted rather easily, Nordawyth. I'm not surprised that is the reason why we are lost."

She struck his arm. "Hush up! I rarely get into trouble anyways, unlike you and Leg'las."

"Yes. But now you are stuck with me." Aragorn pointed out and Nordawyth had to agree.

"True. Oh! And let us not forget this mad Elf assassin that is after your head!" Nordawyth suddenly grinned. "Mad Elf assassin…We do really need to get out of here. This is the perfect place for him to strike."

"What a comforting thought…" Aragorn murmured, eyes searching the shadows around them. The Abandoned Halls were a dreary place. It was dim, the walls grey and the artwork was fading away. Dust covered the ground and there was no light. Now that Nordawyth reminded him of the assassin, he was on high alert.

"I don't know. If he is not careful, he will end up getting lost as well." Nordawyth abruptly stated, earning a look.

"You think he is here?"

"Of course." Nordawyth nodded. Aragorn rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

"And that does not concern you in the least bit?" He asked her.

"Why do you think I brought my twin knives?" Nordawyth shot back, raising her cloak to show Aragorn the twin knives strapped to her sides. She dropped her cloak and added, "But you, on the other hand, came unarmed."

"I do have my dagger." Aragorn said. It was his Elven dagger, a gift from his bro-Elladan and Elrohir, that he always kept in his boot should he ever have to use it.

"I suppose that will just have to do." Nordawyth suddenly stopped, grasping his arm, blue eyes darkening as she listened to something. Aragorn strained his ears to hear whatever she had, but it was silent.

"Dara?" He whispered. Nordawyth pressed a finger to her lips before stealthily creeping forward. Aragorn followed close behind, pressing their backs against the wall that led to a separate corridor. Nordawyth peered around the corner, searching for whatever had created the sound she had heard.

Nothing.

"I know I heard something." She muttered lowly, stepping out into the open. All of a sudden, a swarm of small, black, flying creatures erupted from the mouth of the cavern. Aragorn leaped back but lost sight of Nordawyth. When the creatures finally left, he spotted the Elleth standing where she had been before, her arms thrown over her face for protection before she slowly lowered them. "Bats." She said while picking one off her shoulder and flicking it away when a low growl reached their ears. Looking up, they watched as a large shadow started to rise, beady purple eyes opening and falling upon them. "Oh…"

"Dara…" Aragorn slowly called, backing away. It wasn't the beast before them that caught his attention, but the many shadows he could see crawling towards them. But Nordawyth didn't move, staring at the shadow, trying to figure out what it was. "Dara,"

"Hold on a moment." Nordawyth raised a hand towards him, watching the creature.

"Dara!" He earnestly called as the creatures came closer. He recognized them at once. Eight legs, large bodies, glowing eyes...

"It's harmless, Aragorn. It is only a-"

"DARA!" He lunged and grabbed her wrist flinging her back just as the shadows dropped onto the ground.

"Rhiach!" Nordawyth cursed as she and Aragorn flew back to avoid being struck.

" _Dara_!" This time, Aragorn said her name in a scandalizing tone.

"What?!" Nordawyth growled, twisting her twin knives in hand and slashing at the spiders coming up after them. "You do your fair share of cursing too, Estel." They bolted from the corridor and ran in the direction they had come from.

The direction they thought they had come from.

"Perhaps this is why these Halls were abandoned!"

"If it was only because of Spiders, Ada would have said so!" Nordawyth said as they turned another sharp corner, listening to the hissing of the spiders closing in. "But he said nothing of spiders! He probably would have had these Halls destroyed too!" Aragorn looked ahead and skidded to a stop just before they hit the wall. Looking around, he had a sinking feeling.

"Dead end."

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Thranduil frowned as he left his office. Neither Nordawyth nor Estel had been present for breakfast and no one had seen them in the morning. It was nearing noon and there was still no sign of them. Legolas had checked their rooms and said they were empty. They had searched everywhere else but Estel and Nordawyth were no where to be found. He was about to head into a meeting with representatives from Laketown and Dale when he ran into Glorfindel, Legolas, and Lasgalen, looking rather worried.

"And what might you be doing?" He asked as he stood before them. Legolas and Lasgalen looked up at their Father.

"We still haven't found any sign of them, Ada." Lasgalen sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"But that isn't all." Legolas added. "It appears Lord Elrond and his sons are coming here to Mirkwood."

"What?" Thranduil took the letter from Glorfindel's hand and read it himself. "We had better find Estel and Nordawyth then…Why the sudden visit?" He wondered aloud. Glorfindel shrugged.

"I do not know. Elrond says nothing in his letter."

"The Mid-Winter Fest." Thranduil felt the urge to face palm. "It is their turn to come and visit for the Feast."

"I had forgotten that." The Golden Elf admitted with a frown before his expression became troubled. "This is not good."

"Glorfindel?"

"Estel does not want Elrond or the twins to know of his being here. Should he learn that they were coming, he will leave at once." Glorfindel told them.

"Why would he leave?" Legolas asked. "Elrond and the twins were worried whenever he disappeared…"

"Elrond, the twins, and Estel are no longer the family they once were." Glorfindel sighed, much to everyone's surprise.

"What changed?" Lasgalen inquired. "Last I remember, they had such strong family ties I doubted anything could force them apart!"

"Estel was told his heritage on his twentieth birthday." Glorfindel answered. "Ever since then, Estel felt everyone had suddenly changed now that he knew who he truly was. Elrond and the twins started calling him 'Aragorn' instead of 'Estel'. To Estel, it cut him deeply. 'Aragorn' was someone Estel did not know. A totally different person he had to be. Then he joined the Rangers and became their Chieftain known as 'Strider'. For Estel, he felt burdened by the three. He felt he was being pressured into becoming Estel, Strider, and Aragorn all at once and that everyone expected so much from him. He could not stand it. Elrond was no longer the Father he thought he was, and the twins were no longer his brothers. He has never become accustomed to being Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

"Surely that could not have been all." Thranduil remarked, though he understood why Estel would have been hurt. Estel, he learned when he first met the mortal, was a sensitive being though he hid it well. But Thranduil was a very observant Elf. He had to be, seeing as he was King of Mirkwood. Having the people Estel grew to know and love suddenly change into people he no longer recognized would be difficult for him. He also had a large burden placed onto his shoulders. Elrond, Thranduil knew, was expecting for Estel to become King of Gondor. To take his rightful place on the throne. A great task for the young mortal. Estel, though, never seemed interested in taking the throne. No. Instead, he served the Steward of Gondor, Ecthelion for many years as Thorongil.

It suddenly clicked in Thranduil's mind. He turned to look at Glorfindel, startling Legolas and Lasgalen with the abrupt motion.

"He refused." he stated and Glorfindel nodded, closing his eyes as he recalled the day everything had changed.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

 _Glorfindel strode down the hallway towards his office, a pile of papers in hand, ready to end his day and rest. It had been a long and tiresome day with the Dwarves of Erebor wrecking the room they had been assigned. He had no idea how Elrond could be so patient. He, for one, wished he could wring every Dwarf's neck with all the ruckus they were creating. The poor Hobbit, Bilbo, had to suffer with them. Glorfindel had to commend the Hobbit, though. He was a young and courageous halfling. He knew Hobbits rarely every left their homes. As he went along his way, he heard raised voices coming from Elrond's office. Curious as to who Elrond would be arguing with, Glorfindel slowed his gait, shifting the papers in his arm._

 _"This is who you are meant to be, Aragorn."_

 _"No." Estel's voice reached Glorfindel, strained and hurt. "I cannot be who you want me to be. I can never be!"_

 _"It is either this or exile." Elrond's voice was low. There was a moment of silence and Glorfindel held his breath, feeling he knew what Estel's answer would be._

 _"Then I choose exile." The office door opened and Estel stepped out, clearly worn, exhausted, and upset._

 _"Aragorn!" Elrond appeared, and Glorfindel could see he was upset by the man's decision but Estel only shook his head._

 _"No, Lord Elrond. I will not become king. I can never be king." Estel sadly informed him. "It is just not who I am meant to be."_

 _"We did not raise you to become-"_

 _"No, you may not have." Estel interrupted, expression darkening. "You raised me out of duty."_

 _His words shocked both Elves._

 _"You thought that I would someday become King and took me in in order to protect me until that day. My Father did not ask for you to take me in but you knew that since I was Isildur's heir," He bit out the name. "That I would need to be protected. And so you took me in that day. Now I know...I was never..." Estel blinked back the tears Glorfindel could see blurring his vision. Whatever Estel meant to say, they would never know. The man pursed his lips together, shoulders slightly slumped, and turned away. "You will not have to worry. I will become Chieftain of the Rangers, like my Father before me." He started for the stables._

 _"Aragorn," Elrond began as he went to approach the man. Estel scowled darkly._

 _"Do not call me that."_

"It is who you are, Aragorn. You must accept this." Elrond firmly stated and Estel cried out in frustration, pounding a fist on the nearby railing.

 _"I will never accept this! Do not force me to! All these years of living in ignorance! I should have known there was more to it than met the eye! You never cared!" _

_"Aragorn-"_

 _"Do you know how humiliating it is? To have lived among Elves as the only mortal!? What I had to suffer with? I tried. I tried to impress everyone, tried to be who they wanted me to be, but it was never enough! You never loved me! You only took me in because of who I was! Why did you do it? Because you thought that one day I would become king?" The internal struggled Estel tried to hide was evident in his eyes, and it hurt Glorfindel to see it. Elrond also looked shocked by the accusations, blinking several times to compose himself._

 _"You do not know of what you speak-"_

 _"I don't want excuses! And don't turn this all on me! If you hadn't wanted me-"_

 _"Do you honestly believe we did not love you?" Elrond asked. "We did-do- love you!"_

 _"Could have fooled me." Estel muttered, turning away and stalking down the stairs._

 _"Ara-"_

 _"Elrond." Glorfindel sharply called to the Lord, startling Elrond, who turned to face him._

 _"Glorfindel?"_

 _"Let him be." Glorfindel softly said, watching as Estel went to fetch his horse._

 _"You do not understand-" Elrond began but Glorfindel cut him off with a raise of his hand._

 _"I believe I do." Was all the Balrog Slayer said before going after Estel, leaving a bewildered and lost Elf Lord. He entered the stables to find Estel saddling his steed, shoulders tensed. "Estel?"_

 _Estel did not reply. Glorfindel silently came up to him, clasping his shoulder._

 _"Estel?"_

 _"Why, Uncle? Why did it have to be me?" Estel merely whispered, not turning around to face the Elf. "Do you believe I should be..." Estel trailed off. Glorfindel shook his head and when he went to speak, a new voice beat him to it._

 _"No, Estel." Glorfindel turned to find the dark and mysterious, Chief Adviser, Erestor entering the stables, his violet colored robe fluttering behind him, his black hair cascading far past his shoulders, piercing lavender eyes softening when they landed on Estel. "You are who you are. No one can change that."_

 _Estel flinched._

 _"But," Erestor added, "That does not mean you have to become King because others expect it of you."_

 _"I am not meant to be King." Estel bitterly said, clutching the reins in his hand._

 _"And that is fine." Erestor said, standing beside Glorfindel. "Estel, where will you go?" He asked, appearing indifferent but Estel and Glorfindel knew him well enough to hear the concern he was barely masking._

 _"To the Rangers...Wherever I feel, I suppose." Estel replied with a shrug of his shoulders._

 _"Promise to keep us updated, Estel?" Glorfindel asked, handing the man his pack. Estel nodded, a small smile upon his lips as he gazed up at the two Elves he had grown to love._

 _"You do not see me any differently than before..." Glorfindel laughed as Erestor shook his head._

 _"You are still our little Estel." Erestor told the young man, gripping his shoulder. "And always will be."_

 _"Hannon le." Estel murmured as he Glorfindel embraced him. He knew not when he would see the man once again. Rivendell would feel empty without him. Estel turned to Erestor and surprised the dark Elf by wrapping his arms around him, clinging to the adviser as tears sprung to his eyes. Erestor softly smiled, returning the embrace and held Estel for a few moments before the man pulled away, mounting his chestnut colored horse. "I will see you again..?" He phrased it as a question and both simultaneously nodded._

 _"You will, tithen penneth. Farewell, and safe journey." Glorfindel gripped Estel's hand firmly before releasing it. Erestor handed Estel another pack and at his inquisitive glance, explained,_

 _"For emergencies. You have a tendency to run into trouble no matter where you go, child."_

 _"Hannon le...Namarie." Estel gently nudged his steed's sides and they were off, leaving Glorfindel and Erestor to watch as he vanished through the gate and down the trail._

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Thranduil could not blame the young man. Estel was still young and carefree. Forcing him to grow up too quickly and to take upon himself such large burdens would have been hard for the boy. Though he was only forty-eight, Estel was not yet ready.

' _But will he ever be?'_ Thranduil thought to himself. When he met the man, he immediately knew that he was meant for great things. Was becoming King one of them? There was silence for a moment before Lasgalen broke it.

"Well, I suppose we will not have to worry if Estel and Nordawyth are not found."

"Yes...Where could those two be?" Thranduil wondered aloud. Just at that moment, a rather large explosion resounded through the air, startling many Elves. Whipping their heads in the direction of the explosion, the four bolted to find the source. They reached the far end of the palace and blinked at what they found. Smoke rose in the air, debris scattered about, and a rather big hole in the side of the palace.

"What..?" Legolas breathed, staring at the burned area before them, searching for an explanation as to what had happened.

" _NORDAWYTH_!"

Thranduil closed his eyes.

And there it was.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

"Dead end." Aragorn grimly informed the she-Elf.

"Did you honestly have to say 'dead'?" Nordawyth questioned, glancing back at the incoming spiders. "What are we to do?" She looked around, eyes falling upon the small opening at the bottom of the wall. "Hey, what could this be?" She asked aloud, tugging Aragorn's hand as she knelt down and peered inside. "A passageway! Come on!" She immediately crawled inside, Aragorn close behind. "Left or right?" She turned her head to look at him.

"Right." Aragorn decided, unsure as to why she was asking him. Normally, relying on him caused trouble.

"I can't see a cursed thing." He heard Nordawyth mutter as she continued forward. He followed, hoping they would find a way out when a large 'BANG' echoed throughout the passageway. "...Ouch..." The she-Elf groaned, rubbing her head before raising a hand to see what was in front of her. It was something solid. With a shove, the wood plank went flying away, allowing them to enter a hidden room. Nordawyth stood, examining the room. "There's a window way up there." She pointed and Aragorn shook his head.

"We would be unable to reach it." He searched the room for anything they could use. There was nothing except for a few barrels in the far end of the room.

"Elbereth," He raised his head to find Nordawyth staring at something and looked to find the room was not sealed away from one of the tunnels.

The tunnel it was connected to was infested with spiders.

"I'm beginning to think this is why these Halls were abandoned." He commented to Nordawyth, slowly backing away. Nordawyth did the same, but the spiders spotted the movement and began crawling towards them.

"Oh! This is bad!" Nordawyth backed into one of the barrels and it fell over, splitting open since the wood was fairly old. A clear liquid covered the ground, trickling over to where they stood. "What is that?"

"I am not sure." Aragorn shook his head. "Hand me your knives and figure out a way out of here." He suggested. Nordawyth gave him a surprised look.

"You know how to use my Knives?"

"No." He took them from Nordawyth as she extended them towards him before she could object. "But there is always a first time."

"How comforting." Nordawyth muttered beneath her breath, but she could care less at the moment. She would rather not be mauled to death by spiders. She shuffled about the room, looking for anything that might help them. They could not climb the barrels seeing they were rather ancient and fragile, but there was nothing else they could use. An object on the ground caught her attention. "Ooh, what is this?" She picked it up. "A match?" She swiped it on the ground and took a torch from the wall nearby, igniting it with the small flame before blowing it out. She raised it to see if it would help her to see further into the room.

"Nordawyth!" Aragorn hissed to her. "Put out the flame!"

"What?"

"It is attracting even more spiders!" Aragorn quickly killed one that came too close to him for comfort.

"Even without the torch we would attract more spiders!" Nordawyth argued, refusing to put out the torch.

"Nordawyth! Get rid of the torch!"

"But-"

"Throw it away."

"Alright." Nordawyth flung it to the side and Aragorn watched as it landed on a nearby spider. The spider burst into flames. Screeching, the spider charged wildly about, forcing Aragorn and Nordawyth to fling themselves out of the way as it rushed away, its flesh sizzling as it burned.

"Put it out!" Aragorn ordered, seeing as the torch was still ablaze. Nordawyth rolled her eyes.

"You told me to throw it away!"

"That was not what I meant!"

"Urgh..." Nordawyth growled, kicking the torch into the liquid nearby, hoping to douse it. Aragorn's eyes widened as the liquid suddenly caught fire.

"Don't kick it there!" He exclaimed, the flames quickly spreading. "Get it out!"

"You said to put it out!" Nordawyth shouted in return, narrowly avoiding being burned as a barrel suddenly went ablaze next to her. She reached down to grab the torch and Aragorn yelled,

"Don't grab it!"

"Estel! You told me-"

"It does not matter anymore!" He tried to think of something to save them but nothing came to mind. Nordawyth noticed more barrels further back and grabbed the torch, hissing when the flames licked her arm. "Nordawyth! What are you doing?!" He sliced two more spiders as they came crawling towards him. Nordawyth raised her arm, biting her lip against the pain.

"Saving our lives!" She replied, thrusting her arm down and releasing the torch. The torch spun through the air until it struck the barrels.

"What have you done!?" Aragorn broke into a run, lunging and tackling Nordawyth to the floor just as the explosion rocked the entire cavern, the stone wall blasting into thousands of pieces. The fire suddenly burst over them, mercilessly catching some of the spiders and setting them afire. The spiders shrieked and shirked away from the fire, watching as their companions burned alive. As soon as the explosion was over, Aragorn slowly raised himself off of the Thranduiliell, the debris that had covered him up sliding off.

"Well..." He heard the she-Elf beneath him cough as she rolled over to analyze the damage, "That could have been worse."

Shouts sounded in the distance as Aragorn stood, helping Nordawyth to do the same. Both were covered in smoke, but since Estel was wearing black, it was hard to tell, except that he had it all over his face and hands as well. Nordawyth's white-blonde hair was dyed black, her hand and arm burned from when she had grasped the torch, clothing torn and burned as well. Nordawyth suddenly started forward, crouching down to grab something.

"What do you know? The torch is still not out."

"Nordawyth!" Aragorn called out with a hint of urgency, wishing she would just stand still.

"What?!" The she-Elf whipped around at once, the torch flying from her fingers and narrowly missing singing Aragorn's hair.

" _NORDAWYTH_!"

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

"Do I want to know?" Thranduil questioned as he gazed down upon the two, one elegant eyebrow raised. Glorfindel stood beside him, arms crossed, blue orbs searching the two for any injuries.

"What did you do?" Legolas asked, stepping over a small flame that was still burning away.

"Your sister-"

"Estel-" Both began to explain at once before the King raised his hand, silencing them immediately.

"I do not want to hear. Nordawyth, why were you in the Abandoned Halls? That section of the palace is forbidden for you to explore." He turned to face his daughter before noticing the way she cradled her arm. "And you are injured...Of course. Tell me everything once we reached the Healing Ward." He swiftly turned and walked away, leaving everyone to follow. They were about to reach the Courtyard when a voice called out,

"Thranduil!"

Gracefully spinning on his heel, the Elvenking looked to find Elrond galloping towards him, Elladan and Elrohir in tow, all three sharing the same concerned expression. "Whatever happened, Thranduil? We heard the explosion and feared the worst!"

"All is well, my friend." Thranduil replied, glancing back to find only Nordawyth, Legolas, Lasgalen, and Glorfindel to be standing behind him. Looking to Glorfindel, the Golden Elf gently jerked his head to the side, silently telling him that Estel was hiding behind him. Thranduil, wisely, said nothing. "It appears my daughter has once again found a way to create some form of mischief..."

Elrond nodded, relieved Mirkwood and everyone within was safe before noticing Nordawyth's arm. "You are injured." He dismounted his horse and came over, gently taking hold of her arm. Glorfindel, who was closest to Nordawyth, abruptly turned slightly and Lasgalen immediately moved over to flank him with Legolas on the other side. Elrond quirked an eyebrow but figured they were merely concerned for Nordawyth's wound.

"Burned." Nordawyth explained as though it were a normal thing. "I did something stupid."

"As usual." Lasgalen deadpanned, earning a withering glare from the she-elf.

"You know, Lasgalen, just the other day you-" Nariyen started when Lasgalen abruptly wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"You know, Nordawyth, I was only teasing." He hastily amended, causing everyone to look to him. What was Lasgalen hiding that Nordawyth knew?

"Mhm." Nordawyth smirked. "They will find out one day."

"Yes, but not today." Lasgalen shifted uneasily, peaking their interest.

"Once you are finished, we will have dinner and Legolas and Lasgalen will show you to your rooms. I am certain you are weary after such a travel." Thranduil spoke up, glancing to Glorfindel, who nodded. Elrond did nothing but agree. He and his sons were quite weary from the journey.

' _But why do I feel as though I am missing out on something?'_ He wondered.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Aragorn stealthily sneaked away once they reached the doors to the Palace. He hid himself in the nearby bushes, watching with a heavy heart as Elrond and his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, entered behind Legolas and Lasgalen. Thranduil turned, gingerly taking Nordawyth's arm and leading her to the Healing Ward where Elrond would finish healing it. Glorfindel was frowning in his direction and Estel turned away. He knew the Golden Elf did not believe he should be hiding from them, but they could not know of his being here. Not after everything that had happened. He still loved them, by the Valar, he did. But he was no longer the innocent Estel they once knew. He was tainted. Also, he had not seen them for almost thirty years...appearing now...after all that had transpired. He shook his head, leaning back against the wall. Should he leave?

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn watched as he passed by the doors as Elrond and his family dined with Thranduil and his. He felt a pang of sorrow, watching Elladan and Elrohir interact with Lasgalen and Legolas. Oh, how he yearned to be with them! But he could never... He sighed and turned to leave, only to jump when he found Nordarwyth standing there, leaning against the wall beside him.

"Estel, why do you hide yourself?" She asked him. Aragorn hesitated. He could not tell her. Her friendship was very dear to him, and should she discover the truth, it would ruin everything.

"It is nothing."

Nordawyth snorted. "Nothing indeed. Twenty eight years, Estel, you vanished without a trace. I first learned you had been in Gondor serving as Thorongil then when I went to find out whether it was you, you had left. You had gone to Rohan, to serve their King. I went there, only to find you had abruptly vanished from there as well. Then Lasgalen finds you wandering our woods. Something happened during those twenty-eight years. Something that has frightened you so." Nordawyth's eyes were filled with concern as she looked to him. "And whatever it was, it is keeping you from everyone."

Aragorn sighed. Leave it to the ever observant Nordawyth to see right through him.

"I see there is no fooling you." He whispered, but he was far from irritated. Nordawyth was his sister, though not by blood. She had always been there for him as a child. Before he had met Legolas, he had met Nordawyth when she had been grievously wounded on the border of Rivendell. Thranduil was beside himself whenever he had learned his daughter had been abducted and sent his warriors out to find her. They never did. Legolas had briefly come to Rivendell, in the hopes of finding who had taken his sister, but left without any information. It had been he that had found Nordawyth one dark and stormy day. She had managed to escape from the Orcs that had captured her but was too weak to flee, so she had hidden. Aragorn, who had been five at the time, had wandered out the gates of Rivendell without his adoptive family knowing, and traveled down the trail. He remembered how frightened he had been when Orcs suddenly appeared and surrounded him. He had cried out, hoping his bro-Elladan and Elrohir would come to his rescue, as they always had before. But it was not they who answered his cry, but Nordawyth. Though wounded, Nordawyth was enraged the Orcs were going to harm a child and slaughtered them all, her anger causing her to forget her pain. She had taken him under her wing, leading them to shelter, where they remained the whole night. The next day, Nordawyth had collapsed, her injuries and blood loss weakening her. He had never felt so frightened. He had screamed until his throat was sore, hoping against hope that someone would hear him, but no one did.

They were alone.

But the next day, Wargs attacked and that was when the patrol lead by Glorfindel came. The Golden Elf had been immensely relieved to find Estel safe and surprised to find Nordawyth. Quickly, Glorfindel had taken Nordawyth, leaving him under the care of his brothers, and raced to Rivendell. It had been a long and worrying three weeks as Nordawyth struggled to heal. Thranduil had been informed of his daughter's whereabouts and immediately left his duties as King, rushing to Rivendell, fearing his daughter was long since gone. Legolas and Lasgalen had come with him. If this was their sister's last moments, they wished to say farewell before she passed.

And that was how Estel met a grieving Legolas. He had given Legolas hope and Nordawyth, miraculously, healed fully. It was then they had learned of Aragorn's knack for healing. It had been he to revive Nordawyth, at the tender age of five, when she had abruptly stopped breathing and her heart had ceased beating. Elrond fought to bring her back, but nothing he did worked. Estel, scared and overwhelmed by shock, had grasped Nordawyth's hand and pleaded for her to stay. For her to come back to them. Nordawyth, as though she had heard Estel's pleading, suddenly inhaled shakily.

Aragorn, up to this day, did not regret what he had done. Without Nordawyth, Aragorn was certain he would be lost. Of course, Legolas was his closest friend, his brother, but she had always been there. Many thought her irritating for her bluntness and wild personality, but Aragorn loved her for it. Deep down, he knew Nordawyth's true spirit. He and Legolas had become inseparable after having been introduced to one another and when he first came to Mirkwood with the Elf, he had met Thranduil.

But that was a story for another time.

"Nordawyth...I need time." Aragorn finally said, his voice so low Nordawyth nearly did not hear it. "What happened during those years...I dare not speak of it." He closed his eyes tightly, clutching the part of his tunic that hid the age-old wound that had never healed. "It pains me to this day...A memory that will forever be ingrained in my mind..." A hand took hold of his own. He looked to find Nordawyth clutching his hand between both of hers, eyes filled with grief.

"I am sorry, Estel. I did not mean to bring you such pain..." She apologized guiltily.

"No, no." Aragorn shook his head. "Every night I feel this pain. This pain...It never leaves me. I dream of it each night. That same, horrible, and dark memory..." He shakily exhaled, placing his forehead against Nordawyth's. "Thank-you, Nordawyth. For not pressing me."

"Of course...You will be alright, correct?" She asked as they walked to his chambers. Aragorn nodded, flashing her a small smile.

"I will be fine, Nordawyth."

"If you need someone, Legolas is always there for you. As am I." Nordawyth told him, and Aragorn gratefully nodded before closing his doors and changing into his nightclothes, plopping down onto the bed, where he fell into a deep, troublesome sleep.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Thranduil left his office and began walking down the corridor towards his chambers. He had just been informed the time and decided he should retire, for the morrow would be a busy day. He frowned deeply when the feeling of foreboding struck him as he thought of the day to come. For some reason, he felt something was wrong but he could not, for the life of it, discover what. He glanced out the nearby windows to find that it was storming outside. Thunder bellowed and lightning flashed in response, the rain pounding the earth as the wind howled in retort. It was a raging storm. The clouds were dark and dreary, blocking out the moon. The wind created nightmarish creatures out of the already daunting trees of the forest that he fondly recalled terrified his children when they were younger. Most every storm that blew through Mirkwood, Thranduil woke to find two or three Elflings huddled near his bed and Thranduil had allowed for them to stay with him for the remainder of the night. He suddenly snapped his head to the right, narrowing his eyes. He had thought he heard something over the howling of the wind.

A cry.

Tilting his head, Thranduil listened but heard nothing more. Perhaps he had imagined it. But that was impossible, for the Elvenking never _imagined_ anything. Continuing on his trek towards his room, Thranduil listened to the storm. Once he reached his room, he spotted movement in the corner of his eye and looked to find a distressed Elleth rushing in his direction. He became alert when he found the Elleth to be his daughter, Nordawyth, with the raw expression of fear and worry dancing in her piercing blue orbs.

"Ada!" Nordawyth cried and Thranduil grasped her forearms once she reached him.

"Nordawyth, what is it?" He demanded to know, searching her for any injuries but found none. Nordawyth took hold of his hand and tugged him down the corridor, nearly tripped over her nightgown in her rush.

"It is Estel,"

Thranduil sharply looked to her. Had something ill befallen Estel?

In _his_ kingdom?

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

 ** _Sure hope you enjoyed that long chapter. I have been writing this for hours on end to make up for not updating this story. See, my aunt's computer decided to have a heart attack and when I went to charge it, I found the charging cord had been ripped. Just my luck. But my Grandmother, bless her heart, bought me my very own lap-top so I can write as much as I want, whenever I want!_**

 ** _And I want to thank Little Shadow for the review you posted! And don't worry, you didn't hurt my feelings at all! I need those kind of reviews to help me fix whatever flaws I have in my writing. I am very glad you gave me some constructive criticism and I hope this chapter turned out far better than the first._**

 ** _On to the next chapter!_**


	3. Night Terrors

_**Whewwie, I am working to make up for those many days I didn't post anything on this story when I promised to do so! Here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

"Ada!" Nordawyth cried and Thranduil grasped her forearms once she reached him.

"Nordawyth, what is it?" He demanded to know, searching her for any injuries but found none. Nordawyth took hold of his hand and tugged him down the corridor, nearly tripped over her nightgown in her rush.

"Estel, Ada! You must help him!"

Thranduil sharply looked to her. Had something ill befallen Estel?

In _his_ kingdom?

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

You must help him!"

"What ails him?"

"He will not-" Thunder shook the palace walls, a resounding cry of fear and alarm following it. Thranduil broke into a run, uncaring of whoever saw him. His silver robe whipped in the air behind him, his hand instinctively reaching for the blade he had within them. He burst into the room Estel was in to find the bed sheets flung everywhere, the windows open, and the curtains performing a mad dance as the wind blew through them. There were books and items scattered about the wet floor but it was the occupant in the bed that caught Thranduil's attention. Estel was writhing about, lashing out and fighting against some invisible attacker. Nordawyth rushed in behind him but remained in the doorway, worriedly watching as Estel continued to fight, incoherently crying out. Thranduil immediately went to his side, trying to calm the man, but when he reached out and touched Estel, the man shouted with alarm, flinching away.

"Pl-please!" Estel hoarsely whispered, eyes open but unseeing. "D-Don't..."

"Estel, you are safe." Thranduil gripped his shoulders, trying to still his wild movements. "You are in Mirkwood. No one can harm you here."

Estel only fought against his restraint, and Thranduil released him, not wanting to frighten him anymore than he already was. The young man gave another cry of pain and rolled against the Elvenking, clutching his side before suddenly scratching at his throat, struggling to breathe.

"Ada!" Nordawyth gasped, rushing over as Thranduil shook the man.

"Breathe, Estel, breathe!" He said firmly, trying to get through to the man but Estel could not hear him. His breaths came in gasps as he fought for air, his face already turning blue from loss of air. Suddenly, he reached out and clutched Thranduil's robes, tightening his grip as he fought against his hold.

"Ada, do something!" Nordawyth's voice was high-pitched, fear lacing her tone. Thranduil pulled the man up and against him, tightening his hold when Estel fought to fend him off. Realizing the Elf was too strong for him, Estel whimpered.

"Please...Do not do this..."

"Do not do what?" Thranduil asked, hoping to find some answers. He knew this was not a regular nightmare. No...He had experienced the same terrible dreams Estel was. Dreams of a haunting past event that had taken place long before. Estel was trapped in a memory and he needed to be brought out before he harmed himself.

"Don't hurt them!" Estel shouted. "Please! They did nothing to you! Just kill me and be done with it but leave them be!"

Nordawyth froze at the words, looking to Thranduil.

"He is remembering something that has taken place during his absence..." Thranduil murmured, wondering what he could do to wake the mortal without any trouble.

"No! I will not go! I would rather die than to serve him! Release me!" Estel fought even harder but Thranduil kept his hold on the mortal. "I refuse...I can't...I would never..." Estel broke off, whimpering as he flinched in pain.

"Ada, can you not do anything?!" Nordawyth had had enough. Estel was suffering! He needed to wake and he needed to wake now!

"Estel, you will listen to me," Thranduil's tone was the same he used when issuing an order. "You are in Mirkwood and are safe. There is no one harming you. It is only a dream."

Estel cried out again.

"Estel, you are safe. Awake!" Thranduil commanded and Estel seemed to be drawn from his dream by the King's voice. He reeled back when he discovered someone holding him but instantly realized that Thranduil was no enemy of his. "Estel, are you with me?"

Estel slowly nodded, but refused to look up and Thranduil sensed the building shame and embarrassment overcoming him. "Estel..."

"They will not stop! Why can I not forget? Why...Why must they continue to haunt me...?" Estel brokenly asked. "These memories..." Then Estel pulled away, looking anywhere but at the King and Nordawyth. "Forgive me...I...I lost control of myself." He whispered.

"Estel," Thranduil turned the mortal to face him. His expression told Estel that he knew there was more to it than Estel was willing to tell. Glancing up at Nordawyth, he could see that she was telling him not to be ashamed. He shook his head, clutching his arms for comfort. "You are suffering. You are hiding something. You are holding them within yourself. Secrets that you fear. If you are not careful, they will destroy you. Tell me, Estel...Why do you suffer so needlessly? Why do you hide?"

"If I were to tell you, King Thranduil...Of what happened to me those several years I was gone..." Estel hung his head, tears blurring his vision. "I cannot...It w-would d-de-destroy them a-as it is s-sl-slowly destroying m-me!"

"Estel," Thranduil reached out towards the mortal and Estel was unable to compose himself. Slumping over against the King, Estel's breathing became uneven as his shoulders began to shake. Thranduil did not move as the mortal began to sob uncontrollably, the pent up stress, grief, and pain of the horrid past twenty-eight years came crashing down on Estel. Slowly, the King wound his arms around the broken mortal as Estel clung to him, face buried deep within his robes. Nordawyth seated herself on the edge of the bed, watching as Thranduil hesitantly reached his hand up and ran his fingers through Estel's dark hair in comfort, whispering quiet words in Sindarin to calm his troubled heart. Thranduil did not care that he was King in this moment. Estel, he knew, needed someone to be with him. The mortal, he could sense, had suffered greatly. There was a darkness about him that refused to vanquish its hold of the mortal. Estel, he knew, had held it in for many years, not wanting to appear weak or burden anyone. He held the mortal for a long few moments, waiting for Estel to finish releasing his emotions. He cast away the part of him that always appeared cold and indifferent and instead embraced his paternal side, soothing Estel as best he could.

It was some time before Estel's sobbing died down. He was breathing softly and was not as tense as before. Thranduil glanced over at his daughter, who had a fond smile on her lips, eyes soft and full of care and love for the mortal in his arms.

"He is sleeping." She quietly told him, and Thranduil looked to find that she was correct. Estel had his head against his shoulder, eyes closed, and expression relaxed. He had curled into himself, nestled deep within the king's arms, as he slept. Turning back to Nordawyth, he spoke,

"Go. Rest, my daughter. You have had quite the day."

Nordawyth looked to Estel then back to her Ada. "Someone needs to look after him tonight..."

"I will stay here." Thranduil told her, surprising the young Elleth. "It is the least I could do." He added in a mere whisper, gazing down at the young mortal he held.

"Ada?" Nordawyth tilted her head in question.

"He saved all of my children." Thranduil said, and Nordawyth was unsure as to whether or not he was speaking to her. "At the age of five, he healed you...brought you back. He rescued Legolas from fading and gave him hope. He cured Lasgalen of the poison an Orc had inflicted upon him during his captivity in Dol Guldur...All these times I had begun to give up hope. Believed that my family would be destroyed, but Estel brought us together."

Nordawyth listened as her Father spoke, witnessing one of the rare tender moments Thranduil was allowing himself to be exactly what he was. Not a king, but a parent. A kind and loving Father who cared deeply for his children. Even though he was known as a cold and heartless King, Legolas, Nordawyth, and Lasgalen loved him. He was their Father, no matter what. Nothing could change that.

"When I went to find Legolas, after the Battle of Five Armies, I could not find him." Her Ada breathed deeply. "I feared the worst and searched everywhere for any sign of his body, but did not succeed. Then I found him. He left...Telling me he could never go back. It hurt him too much. I let him go. I thought I would never see him again until one day..."

"The day you were ambushed." Nordawyth closed her eyes, recalling that dark and terrible day. She was correct. Thranduil had left the palace to lead a patrol since there was no one else who could. Legolas was no longer home, his Captain of the Guard had died during the great battle, Lasgalen was wounded, and all the other patrols were already checking the perimeter for Spiders. Thranduil had also needed a break from being King. Being a Royal was stifling, but Thranduil loved his people and would do anything for them. This, Nordawyth knew well, thus she did not judge her Father as most did. She knew his reason for joining the Battle of Five Armies, for taking all the gems and jewels he could find. The necklace Thranduil wanted had belonged to his Wife. He had had it made for her. He took every gem and jewel he could and had them placed into the palace since his people could no longer safely venture outside to see the stars. Then one day, it had been storming as it was now...

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

 _ **A rather short chapter, but I'm working on the next one right now. The exciting adventure Aragorn will partake of is coming up soon! Just...oh, probably two more chapters away?**_


	4. The Memory

_**Alrighty! Next chapter up!**_ _ **One quick little note, I know Aragorn was 27 when The Hobbit took place, but in this one, he is younger.**_

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

 _Several years earlier..._

The thunder boomed as the storm raged over the Kingdom of Mirkwood, the lightning brightening up the dark and gloomy sky. The wind howled with fury, the trees groaning beneath the force.

"Ada, where are you going?" Nordawyth asked as she followed her Father out of the throne room. Thranduil walked briskly in the direction of his chambers, sheathing his broadsword.

"I am leaving to lead a patrol east of Mirkwood." Thranduil replied, his daughter jogging in order to catch up to him. "You are in charge during my absence. If you have need of anything, Faelyn will help you."

"But Ada,"

"No, Nordawyth." Thranduil cut her off, entering his room and throwing his robe onto his bed as he retrieved his light armor. "I must see for myself if what I suspect is true."

"And what will happen should it be true? What if you are injured?" Nordawyth inquired, her worry evident in her features. _I cannot lose you too..._ Was what she wished to say but pursed her lips, not wanting to appear weak before her King and Father.

"Then someone will lead in my stead." Thranduil replied, knowing exactly what Nordawyth had been asking. He felt a pang of grief when he saw Nordawyth struggling to pretend that she was as strong as everyone had wanted her to be. She would ask questions or say something and Thranduil knew she was covering up what she truly wanted to say. She had a double meaning everytime she spoke. Concerned that he would be injured was not exactly what Nordawyth was asking.

 _What if you are killed?_

Had been what she meant but she refused to ask aloud, fearing she would disappoint her Father by showing such 'weakness'. Though Nordawyth knew he was powerful, she still feared the worst. She had already lost Legolas, unsure of his whereabouts, her Mother dead, and Lasgalen was dying from a wound he had earned during his captivity. Would she lose her whole family? His children, Thranduil knew, were trying to make him proud. They were trying to please him by being who they thought he wanted them to be. Guiltily, Thranduil realized it was his fault. He had expected much from his children and whenever he was disappointed in them, he did not hesitate to tell or hint to them that he was. He had driven his family away, believing that he was making them stronger when, in fact, he was breaking them down. Lasgalen had left the palace years earlier because he could not stand the pressure and ended up being captured by Orcs and tortured in Dol Guldur. For years, none knew the location of Lasgalen and were about to pronounce him dead when Elrond had found him. When he, Lady Galadriel, and Saruman went to confront Sauron, Elrond had taken his time to explore the Fortress, feeling there was something amiss and that it did not have to do with Sauron. He had found Lasgalen within the dungeon after a rather brutal beating and immediately left for Mirkwood, where he spent many days trying to heal the Elf.

But he did not know the cure for the unknown poison and he dared not try any other antidotes for fear that he would worsen the Elf's condition.

"I should return in three days." Thranduil stood after putting on the armor over his boots and lifted a nearby cloak, flinging it over his shoulders and tying it in the front.

"And if you do not?" Nordawyth dared to ask as he went to pass her. Thranduil stopped and Nordawyth quickly apologized. "I am sorry-"

"Nordawyth," Thranduil turned to face her and the Elleth lowered her head, finding the ground more interesting than it should be. He gently lifted her chin with his fingers, guilt growing when he noticed the shame building in her eyes. "I will be back. Then, we will talk." He hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not if he should do something but then left. Nordawyth watched him go, praying to the Valar that he would be safe.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

The rain pattered against Thranduil's armor as he rode his steed down one of the paths in the forest. The patrol of Elves obediently followed behind their King, their long hair wet and clothing soaked. Thranduil was alert as he scanned his surroundings. Something was amiss, but he did not know what. He could sense incoming danger, but could not pinpoint the direction it was coming from.

"Ambush!" A cry rang out through the trees and Thranduil expertly spun his blade into the head of a charging Spider, slaying the Orc that was close behind it. Elves dropped from the trees and attacked the incoming Orcs and Spiders. Battle cries mixed with the shrieks and screeches of both enemies as they fought against one another.

"We are surrounded!" Thranduil frowned, trying to devise a plan. How had they not sensed these creatures?

"Archers!" He called and arrows sang through the air, hitting their intended targets. Spiders and Orcs dropped dead but more kept coming to replace them. Thranduil effortlessly cut down more spiders and orcs, stabbing a rather large Orc through the heart before ripping his blade out and decapitating another. He performed a lethal dance with his blade and any who got in his way were immediately slain. He parried another blow, kicking the Orc away and running his sword through the head of a spider then slitting the Orc's throat, watching as his band of twenty Elves killed their own opponents. So far, no casualties. For Thranduil, he hoped it would remain that way.

"There should not be this many!" He heard his Captain remark incredulously as he watched more spiders and orcs stream down.

"They are after something." Thranduil noted and the nearby Elves had a feeling they knew what that 'something' was.

"They are after you, My Lord." An Elleth beside him said as she ducked to avoid being struck by crude Orc's blade, stabbing both her knives into her opponent and spinning around to slay the one behind her. Thranduil frowned. She was correct. Most of the Orcs and Spiders were veering in his direction while the others tried to lead the Elves away from their King in the hopes of overwhelming him. But did they want to kill him or only capture him was the question.

"Look out!"

A large tree behind them groaned and fell over, crashing on the ground in the center of the battlefield. Thranduil made to move over when excruciating pain exploded in his stomach, causing for him to stumble back.

"My Lord!" The Elleth cried in dismay and Thranduil looked down to see a black arrow had hit him. The Elves, seeing that their King was wounded, instantly became enraged and fought even harder than before. Thranduil shook himself from his daze and gripped the hilt of his blade, turning to decapitate another Orc. No one dared to tell him to fall back, seeing as they were surrounded. They only moved closer. Or, the few Elves on the left side of the fallen tree did since the others were trapped on the right, unable to come to their aid.

"Protect the King!" His Captain shouted to the few Elves with them. The seven, including the Elleth, made a tight circle and Thranduil dared not move out. Then the Wargs came.

"Warg Riders!" The Elleth exclaimed, leaping to the side when one charged her. The archers in the trees fired at once, aiming for the Wargs instead of the Orcs mounted on them. A nearby ellon bit back a cry when one Warg bit into his arm, using his dagger to blind it then slitting its throat, another Elf attacking the Orc. Everything was chaotic. Spiders hissed, wargs howled, and orcs shrieked as they rushed about the battlefield, trying to bring down the Elves.

"Captain!" Thranduil threw his dagger into the neck of a rather large Orc that had sneaked up behind the oblivious Elf, who turned just in time to see the Orc crumple to the ground. He did not have time to thank his king, however, when a spider lunged at Thranduil. Thranduil immediately moved aside, barely missing being nicked by its pincers spinning his broadsword and bringing it down onto the spider's head, disconnecting it from its body. Sensing immediate danger, Thranduil attempted to spin out of the way but the mud was too slick, and the Elvenking slipped. A Warg used this to its advantage, tackling the Elvenking to the ground. The arrow embedded in his stomach snapped on impact and buried itself further into the ellon. Thranduil nearly screamed from the pain as the Warg buried its claws into his skin, fighting to escape from it. The Warg opened its jaw wide, revealing the row of sharp, yellowed, teeth and made to attack, Thranduil still pinned beneath it.

"NO!" Thranduil heard a voice shout and watched as an arrow slammed into the Warg's neck, startling it. The Warg quickly recovered and went to pounce when it raised its head and froze. The Warg growled but moved away and Thranduil craned his neck to see what had driven the beast off of him. If he had thought Wargs combined with orcs and spiders were bad, this was even worse.

A troll.

And not just any troll. A mountain troll with a rather large hammer in hand. The troll, seeing the Elvenking was down, and still alive, decided he would be the first to go. The ground shook as the troll sprinted towards him, trees falling from side to side as it did so. Thranduil tried to move, but his body was growing numb. The arrow, he knew, had pierced an artery and he was bleeding profusely. The Elves watched with horror, unable to do anything as the troll raised its hammer, and flung it down with all its force, right where their King had been laying.

" _ADAAA!_ " A broken cry shattered the silence that hung o'er them. There were two blurs that sped across the battlefield, one green and one black. The green had already notched an arrow and released it, the arrow sailing into the troll's open mouth and the black gave a powerful strike to its knees. The troll, that had been struggling to raise it's hammer, roared and fell to one knee where the two blurs viciously attacked it, dealing blow after blow until it was finally defeated. Then they moved onto the Warg Riders then the Spiders, the Elves following their lead, the shock of their King's death fresh within them. Some were furious, some enraged, others horrified, and many grieved. They followed the orders the newcomers gave, not daring to question their authority. The Elf showed no mercy as he beat down upon his opponents, rage and overwhelming sorrow adding power to every one of his blows.

"Legolas!" The mortal shouted a warning, and the Elf whipped around in time to see a Warg lunging at him. He did not have time to move. Nor did he need to, for at that precise moment, the Warg suddenly jerked and fell dead before him, a dagger having pierced its skull. Searching for who had saved him, Legolas found there was no one nearby and returned to the battle.

The battle was soon over. One of the newcomers, an Elf, slowly approached where the troll had fallen, his companion, a mortal, following close behind.

"Legolas..." The man murmured softly, grief evident in his eyes as he watched his friend drop his twin blades and fall to his knees.

"Ada..." Legolas grit his teeth together, squeezing his eyes shut as tears threatened to fall. "No...Valar, don't let this be...Please don't let this be!" He pleaded as his shoulders shook. The mortal slowly knelt down beside him, wrapping his arms around the Elf and pulling Legolas against him. Legolas clung to his friend, burying his head in his shoulder"He can't be dead...He just cannot be! Ada was powerful..." Legolas's voice was muffled.

The mortal whipped his head sharply in the direction of the fallen troll. He could have sworn he had just heard something.

"...Las..." There it was. A voice. It was so weak and soft that had he not been listening, he would have missed it. Pulling away from his friend, the mortal stood, earning a befuddled look from Legolas. The Elf had tears streaming down his face as he watched his friend walk to the troll, head tilted as though listening for something. Placing a hand against the hammer, the man peered around it, eyes widening at what he saw.

"Legolas!" Turning his head, surprise flickering in his grey orbs, he breathed, "He's alive."

Legolas had never moved so fast in his life. He shot towards his friend, not daring to believe it was true, but when he followed Estel's line of sight, his breath caught in his throat. There, lying deathly still on the grass beside the hammer, was the Elvenking. Estel was already at his side, staunching the bleeding as best he could with a piece of torn cloth. The Elvenking's eyes half-opened when Legolas dared to move closer, eyes wide with disbelief and growing hope. He was deathly pale, his blue tunic stained with crimson, and in his eyes, Legolas could see the pain he was trying to hide. It was not only pain from the wound, but several other different pains altogether.

"Ada..?" Legolas dropped down beside the King, reaching out with his hand to touch him before pulling away slightly.

"Ion...nin..." Thranduil coughed, ignoring his pain as he reached out to brush the hair out of Legolas's eyes. Legolas clasped his Father's hand, refusing to let go for fear that if he did so, he would lose him forever.

"This is beyond my skill of healing." Estel sadly informed Legolas. His heart sank as he watched Legolas pale even more, appearing lost and horrified.

"There is nothing we can do..?" Legolas dared to ask, but Estel shook his head. Thranduil closed his eyes, nodding slightly. "No!" Legolas shook his head adamantly, tears once again springing to his eyes. "There must be...There must be something we can do!"

"Leaflet," Legolas stared at his Father. That had been his nickname when he was but an elfling. Hearing his Father call him that now... "Estel...is right. The arrow," Thranduil forced himself to continue, despite the pain it caused him. "-it pierced an artery." All color drained from Legolas's face. There was no way Thranduil would survive. He would either bleed to death, or succumb to the pain of the wound until his body would fail him and he would die. "I will not..."

"Please don't, Ada." Legolas begged, clutching his hand even tighter. "I'm sorry!" He cried, surprising the Elvenking and Estel both.

"Whatever...for..? You have done...nothing."

"I should have listened. I should have tried harder. I could have-"

"Stop." Thranduil ordered and Legolas automatically stilled. Something that bothered Thranduil even more than before. "Do not blame yourself...for my wrongdoings." He whispered, much to Legolas's shock. Gazing deep into his Father's eyes, Legolas could see everything that the Elvenking wished to tell him but could not bring himself to. The darkness was closing in and Thranduil's eyes fluttered close, his hand slipping from his son's grasp and fell against the ground with a soft 'Thump.'

"Ada..?" Legolas breathed in disbelief but received no reply. "No...No, no, no...Estel!" Legolas swung his wild eyes over to his friend who was frantically trying to revive the King.

"We must bring him to the Palace." was all Estel said, turning to face the Elves. "We need a makeshift stretcher." The Elf was about to object when Estel cut in to explain, "If we were to place him on horseback, it would stretch the wound and deepen the arrow." Nodding, the Elf ordered for a stretcher to be made.

Not too long afterwards, they had reached the Mirkwood Healing Ward, where Estel spent hours trying to heal the Elvenking. Legolas, overwhelmed with worry and fear, sat on the bed nearby, holding his sister close against him as they watched Estel struggle with the healing. Beads of perspiration dripped from his forehead, his teeth clenched together, eyes closed as he concentrated. Estel suddenly tensed, alerting Legolas and Nordawyth.

"Estel?" Nordawyth timidly moved forward, wondering whether or not she should interrupt him. Estel pulled away, breathing albeit heavily. "What is it?" Nordawyth helped him to sit down.

"The arrow had poison coated over the tip. The poison moved quickly throughout his body, paralyzing him. If I do not free him of it..." Estel left his sentence hanging. There was no need to finish it. Legolas bowed his head. Would he lost his Father after all? He should never have left. This would never have happened if he had stayed. Estel suddenly stood and placed both hands over the arrow wound.

"What are you doing?" Nordawyth asked, concerned that Estel would overdo himself. As much as she hated the thought of losing her Father, she did not want to lose both her Father and brother. If Estel overdid himself, it would harm him greatly. It could even kill him.

"Purifying the poison." Estel grunted, shoulders shaking slightly as he focused on purifying the poison as Elrond had taught him. He could feel the poison slowly cleansing and immediately began chanting in Sindarin once again. "He has gone far..." he murmured mostly to himself. He pulled away, inhaling deeply.

"Estel?" Legolas stood but Estel shook his head.

"What I am about to do is very dangerous." He started to explain to the two Elves. "I am going to call for him."

"Estel!" Nordawyth sharply barked, shocked that Estel would risk such a thing. Even Legolas was hesitant. He had seen Elrond do it once, and even that wore the Elf Lord out. Glorfindel and Erestor both had to support him after he was done reviving the wounded man. Estel was no Elf, nor was he fully human. He had Elf-blood in him which made him stronger than most mortals. Estel held a hand up to keep them from objecting.

"I have never done it before, but if you should sense something is wrong, you must try to bring me back."

"Bring you back?!" Nordawyth blurted, staring at Estel as though he had grown two heads. "You can die, Estel!" Legolas placed a hand on his sister's shoulder, looking to the young man standing before them.

"As much as it pains me to say...I agree with Nordawyth, Estel. It is too risky." Legolas told him, both siblings struggling with the fact that their Father would die. But they could not risk both Estel and Thranduil fading. The grief would be too much. Lasgalen was also fading. The pain would be too much to bear.

"I know and I am willing to take that risk." Estel said to them. He did not give them anytime to argue before placing a hand over Thranduil's forehead. "Nothing you can say will change my mind. I will do my best." With that, he closed his eyes and was soon pulled away into another world.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Thranduil wandered through the forest he was in. It was the Greenwood he remembered before it slowly became Mirkwood. The leaves were a healthy green, plants growing everywhere with deer grazing about the fields. It was peaceful. He frowned, wondering why he felt so confused. Hadn't he been with his son and...and some mortal just a moment ago? And whatever happened to Mirkwood? He knew that it was sick. His brow furrowed. Something had happened...but what was it? He had left his daughter in charge during his absence...But why had he left? Where had he gone? He wracked his mind to find the answers but could recall nothing. He looked up at the cloudy sky. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. And this felt rather ethereal.

"King Thranduil!" A voice faintly called, and Thranduil turned to see who was there. He could not see anyone. "King Thranduil!" He tilted his head, wondering why that voice sounded familiar. Suddenly, the area around him grew dark, the clouds becoming pitch black. The Forest, which had been bright and cheerful before, now dark and dreary, like Mirkwood. "My Lord!"

 _Estel._

The name came unbidden to his mind and Thranduil blinked. Who was Estel? The name was rather familiar. Thunder suddenly cracked overhead and lightning lit up the sky.

"King Thranduil! Can you hear me?"

"Estel?" Thranduil whispered and that was when it came to him. The ambush, the warg and troll, then his son and Estel. They had made an abrupt appearance when he was attacked by the Warg. He could remember the anguish he saw reflected in both their eyes. Lightning struck the ground nearby and Thranduil heard a yelp. He ran in its direction. "Estel!"

"King Thranduil!" The Elvenking could see a shadowy figure stumbling through the trees not too far away from him.

"Estel!" He slowed to a stop once the mortal was standing before him. He appeared drained and exhausted, but there was a flicker of determination dancing in his grey-blue orbs. Estel appeared rather relieved to find him.

"My Lord!"

"Estel, there are no formalities. You are family." Thranduil immediately dismissed the title.

"As you wish. Thranduil, you must come back."

"Come back?" Thranduil repeated.

"You are in between worlds. The poison from the arrow tip spread throughout your body and now you are lingering between life and death."

"Then how are you here?" Thranduil asked the questioned without thinking before his eyes narrowed. "You did not..."

"I had to, it was the only way." Estel tried to defend himself, shirking back a bit.

"Estel Elrondion!" Thranduil did not holler but his tone was one Estel recognized very well. "You are risking your life by doing this!"

"You were dying and there was nothing else I could do but this! Your family needs you!" Estel argued. "Legolas and Nordawyth have already suffered enough. Lasgalen is dying and if you should fade, the grief will be too much for them. Your kingdom needs you. Legolas knows he is not ready to become King and you know that as well. Your people cannot live without their king. They are wallowing in their guilt and nothing I or any other can say can appease them. Only you can put them at ease."

Thranduil listened as Estel spoke to him. His children...He could picture their faces well. Nordawyth was his eldest, followed by Lasgalen, then his youngest, Legolas. The three beings that brought joy in his life, even after his wife had passed.

"You cannot abandon them."

Thranduil was silent. Estel staggered, his breathing suddenly becoming labored.

"Estel-"

"Make your decision, Thranduil. Return with me and reunite with your family, or retreat to Mandos's Halls, leaving your family behind to fend for themselves." Estel hadn't meant to sound harsh, but he knew he needed to bring Thranduil back, and the one thing Thranduil would never do, was abandon his family. He cared for them greatly. All of Mirkwood knew this, including some residents in Rivendell. When it came to the welfare of his children, Thranduil would do anything he could for them. Of course, he was not exactly the ideal parents everyone would want to have, but he was Legolas's, Nordawyth's, and Lasgalen's Father. The only Father they wanted.

"They have others-"

"You do not understand. They. Need. You. No one else can take your place." Estel declared, gasping lightly.

"You know, as well as I do, that I would never leave my children on their own." Thranduil softly said, gazing up at the sky. He knew what his decision was and he would not regret it. "Too many years we have been broken apart...our relationship as Father and child strained."

A smile graced Estel's lips as the Elvenking straightened and turned to face him. There was concern in the Elvenking's eyes as he watched Estel sway lightly and begin trembling.

"You have pushed yourself too far, Estel." Thranduil whispered, brushing away Estel's wet hair from his face.

"It was worth it." Estel told him. _The price would have been too high..._ The mortal thought to himself. But he didn't only do it for Thranduil's family. Thranduil had become like a second Father to him and though Thranduil would never admit it, Estel was a son he had adopted as well, just as Elrond adopted Legolas into his family.

"Very well." Thranduil uttered, but didn't say anything else. Estel already knew his decision and was relieved. Thranduil would be coming back with him. He had known from the very beginning that the Elvenking would. A sudden beam of light lowered down onto them and Thranduil looked up to see the sun hidden behind the stormy clouds.

"The poison has been purified." Estel whispered mostly to himself, in awe before suddenly falling back against a tree. Thranduil swerved his attention to him.

"Estel?"

"I believe...I have overdone it..." Estel weakly murmured as the King pulled the mortal up. Estel gratefully leaned against him. Suddenly, the world was in turmoil. Darkness surrounded them once again as Estel began to severely weaken. The storm raged, the rain pounding against them.

"Estel! You must pull yourself back." Thranduil ordered, but Estel shook his head, raising frightened eyes to meet piercing blue ones.

"I can't..."

"What do you mean?" Thranduil sharply asked.

"I have weakened myself far too much." Estel closed his eyes as the world spun around him, tilting in many odd angles. Thranduil felt a flash of fear run through him as Estel collapsed. No, he did not collapse. The ground had given way beneath him!

"Estel!" Thranduil threw himself down, peering over the edge of the hold to find Estel holding onto the edge of a rock, his hand slipping. "Estel! You must pull yourself out! Now!"

"I-I-I can't! I am too weak!" Estel cried back, the fear building within him.

' _No, I cannot lose him...'_ Thranduil pursed his lips together, worried. What could he do?

"Is there anything I can do?" Thranduil asked but Estel shook his head.

"You must go back!" Estel hollered over the wind, his complexion paling. Thranduil then realized what had happened.

"What have you done, child?" He asked aloud. "He took it upon himself...The fool!" The poison, as Estel had said, had indeed been purified, but Estel had first tried to draw it out and heal the wound. But by doing so, Estel had not only drained himself of energy, but had taken part of it on himself. A mistake he remembered Elrond had made and it nearly cost them Elrond's life but Gil-galad had managed to use his ring to save the Elf Lord. But Thranduil had no such power. Estel, if they were to return to Mirkwood, risked immediate or a slow and painful death. Thranduil lowered himself to the ground, reaching out to grab hold of Estel."Give me your hand, Estel!"

Estel looked up at the King then to his extended hand. He gripped the ledge of the rock tightly before lifting himself up a few inches and raising his other hand. The Elvenking grasped his wrist and pulled the mortal up to safety. Once he was out, Estel fell against Thranduil, fighting to keep his eyes open. "Estel, you have to get out." Estel only shook his head.

"Don't...think I can...make it." He weakly admitted.

The two then heard voices shouting, but they were too muffled to understand the words they were saying. It wasn't long before the storm gradually began to calm and the voices became audible.

"Estel! Come on!" Nordawyth's sounded and the ground seemed to shake.

"Estel, you have to come back!" Legolas's followed and Estel felt his waning strength starting to wax stronger.

"We are with you, Estel! Come on!" Nordawyth urged, the fear evident in her tone.

"They are sharing their strength with you." Thranduil murmured, and he couldn't help but marvel at his children's connection with Estel. Two immortals and one mortal. A friendship that would last for all eternity. "Now, Estel," he gazed down at the man. "Pull back." Estel nodded weakly.

"I will try."

A bright light engulfed them and they were gone.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Thranduil slowly became aware of his surroundings and of muffled shouts and cries of alarm.

"Estel! Estel!" That was his daughter's voice...Nordawyth. "Wake up, gwador-nin! Wake up!"

"Estel, do you hear me?" Legolas. He opened his eyes, and was surprised to find that he felt whole. There was no numbness, no soreness, and no pain. Glancing down at himself, he found his wound to be healed fully with the hint of a scar. Looking to the side, he found Legolas kneeling on the ground, cradling Estel's head in his lap, Nordawyth hovering over the limp form of the mortal, anguish and despair clear in their features. Estel was pale, too pale for his liking, and motionless. He slipped out of the sickbed at once, crashing to the ground ungracefully beside his daughter, who started. Nordawyth looked up and reeled back in surprise.

"Ada?!"

Legolas whipped his head up, eyes widening in shock when he saw his Father, perfectly healthy, kneeling beside his sister. Thranduil reached over and placed a hand over Estel's heart.

"Estel, lasto beth-nin." (Hear my voice) He called. Estel did not move. "Hear me, Estel." A slight twitch in the hand. "He has overexerted himself." Thranduil lifted Estel into his arms, cradling the mortal gently but firmly against him. "We must move him to the Healers." He left with urgency, Legolas and Nordawyth in tow. Legolas took hold of Nordawyth's hand in silent comfort as the two jogged after their father. Thranduil knew that if nothing was done soon, Estel would be lost. He could not allow that. How would he inform Elrond that his son died in order to save his life? The sound of voices attracted Thranduil's attention and he looked up.

Visitors.

And not just any visitors.

"Elrond!" Thranduil's melodious voice floated down towards the six Elves and Elrond whipped his head in the direction of the incoming King. He was about to greet him when he noticed the limp form in Thranduil's arms.

"Thranduil! What in the Valar's name happened?!" Elrond demanded as he rushed over, the twins, Glorfindel and Erestor coming up behind him.

"Estel!" Elladan and Elrohir chimed, frightened when they noticed the state their adoptive brother was in.

"Now is not the time to explain. You must help him, Elrond." Thranduil curtly stated. Elrond nodded, his attention mostly focused on his son.

"We cannot do it here. We must find another room." Elrond quickly informed the king, jerking a hand towards his right. Thranduil dipped his chin in acknowledgment and lead them to a nearby room, Legolas shutting the door behind them as Thranduil and Elrond placed Estel onto the bed. Elrond tried calling out to his son but received no reply. For some reason, Estel was too far away for him to reach. This frightened Elrond even more. Estel was dying, and he knew not why. There were no signs of injuries, no physical wounds he could see. Then why was Estel in this condition? "Glorfindel, help me." Elrond turned to his friend. The Balrog Slayer came over and closed his eyes as he placed a hand over Estel's heart. His brow furrowed as he searched for what they could do for the man. His eyes flew open and locked gazes with Thranduil.

"He did not..."

"He did." Thranduil affirmed.

"He did what?" Elrond wanted to know, desperate to save his ailing son. Elrohir and Elladan looked to Legolas and Nordawyth, silently asking them what the elder Elves were talking about. Erestor had a good feeling he knew. He had only seen one other person in the same state Estel was in now.

"He called me back." Thranduil answered and Elrond was struck dumb for a moment.

"He did _WHAT?!_ "

"It will take our combined strength to bring him back." Glorfindel grimly said. "If he is not already gone."

"No! Estel would never give in!" Elrond assured mostly himself.

"I need your aid." Glorfindel replaced his hand over Estel's heart and forehead, Elrond and Thranduil placing their hands on his shoulders. The three bowed their heads and the others watched, amazed, as an ethereal glow radiated from Glorfindel then spread to Elrond then Thranduil as they bowed their heads, Glorfindel murmuring in Quenya, calling to Estel. After a few tense moments, Estel suddenly started, jerking upwards as his eyes flew open, heaving in a huge breath before slumping back down against the bed. Elrohir, Elladan, Legolas, and Nordawyth were instantly relieved as Estel continued inhaling deeply. Estel blinked furiously, trying to get rid of the blurriness when he saw three beings leaning over him. He squinted.

"G...Glorfindel?" He barely managed to say before noticing the other Elf to his left. "Ada?"

"Estel, ion-nin!" Elrond embraced Estel tightly.

"Thank the Valar." Thranduil found himself saying, earning everyone's attention. "Estel, what you did was reckless." Estel bowed his head. Thranduil had to suppress a grin at the sight. "But I must thank-you."

Identical looks of shock covered everyone's faces.

"If it had not been for you, I would not have been able to return to my family." Thranduil spared a glance at his son and daughter. Nordawyth was pressed against Legolas's side and Legolas had an arm wrapped around her shoulder. Nordawyth stared at her Father before flinging herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around the Elvenking, her body shaking with sobs. Thranduil did not think twice as he held his daughter. He looked up at Legolas, who stood awkwardly before them. Extending an arm to Legolas, the Elf stood there, surprised for a moment before joining in with them. Thranduil could not help but smile, resting his head on top his son's as everyone else in the room smiled at one another, even Erestor cracking a small grin of approval.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

BACK TO THE PRESENT...

Thranduil was brought back to reality when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder and looked to see Lasgalen standing there.

"Ada, it is morning. The Council was wondering where you were." He whispered. Thranduil blinked and glanced out the window. It was indeed morning. Two hours past dawn. Estel was still nestled deep within the bedsheets, but he slept close to where Thranduil sat. "Nordawyth said he had a nightmare."

"It was no nightmare." Thranduil shook his head. "It was a memory."

"Something happened to him...He has changed. There is a more dismal air about him and he appears...nervous."

Thranduil frowned deeply, looking at the young man. "Whatever happened, it was a scarring experience for him...But he is hiding something from us, as is Nordawyth."

"Nordawyth?" Lasgalen glanced at his Father. "What would she have to hide from us?"

"I know not." Thranduil replied. At that moment, Estel stirred, covering his mouth as he yawned and stretching one arm out above him. He slowly blinked himself awake, and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Lasgalen stared for a moment. What Estel had just done reminded him of how young the mortal was. To them, he was still like a child. Estel appeared to be no older than twenty because of the Dunedain blood that ran through him, which was one of the reasons why the Thranduilion family was quite protective of him. Estel started to get out of bed when he found Thranduil and Lasgalen were in his chambers. Recalling the events from the night before, Estel made to apologize but Thranduil waved a hand in the air. "Do not apologize, Estel. There is no need."

"I...Hannon-le, hir-nin." Estel bowed his head.

"I have told you many times before," Thranduil began, a slight tone of exasperation in his tone as he fondly gazed down upon the mortal. "No titles."

"Yes...King Adar." Estel replied with a slight smile as he resorted to his nickname for Thranduil from when he was younger. Lasgalen laughed and ruffled Estel's hair, earning a cry of indignation as the man fixed his hair.

"I still remember that!" Lasgalen smiled brightly. "Oh, stay out of the West Wing and the Gardens today." He warned.

"Whatever for?" Estel asked.

"They are exploring today with Legolas." Lasgalen informed him.

"Estel, why do you hide?" Thranduil asked the young man. "They have long since forgiven you." Estel stared at him for a moment before a look of comprehension crossed his features.

"Oh. I take it Glorfindel told you then." Estel looked away, as though ashamed. "It is not for that reason that I hide from them." He clenched his hands into fists, a far away look in his eyes. "It is for a much darker reason..."

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

 _ **Oh my world! Have you any idea how long this took me to type? Ages! (Not really, but still!)  
Oh well. So, stay tuned for the next chapter, where Thranduil learns of Estel's darkest secret and when the real trouble begins!  
*Evil cackle***_


	5. Dark Secret

_**I'mma back with another chapter! Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Thranduil and Lasgalen were silent at the quiet confession Estel had told them. "Estel?" Lasgalen slowly said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Something happened to you during the eight years of your disappearance. Everyone has noticed that. There is an air of darkness about you. Care to explain yourself?" Thranduil asked, leaning forward a bit in his chair. Aragorn did not speak for a moment, dropping his face into his hands and shaking his head. He debated whether or not to tell them.

' _They have every right to know.'_ He thought to himself, somberly. He had hoped it would not come to this, but he could not keep hiding like this. He could not keep going this way.

"It all started about nine years ago." He whispered so softly the Elves nearly did not hear it. "The year I decided to visit the Rangers before returning to Gondor. Along my way, I ran into a group of Orcs. The Orcs were not alone. Elladan and Elrohir were also there."

Lasgalen raised his head, recognition flickering in his green eyes.

"The twins were on their way to Mirkwood." He said aloud. "Do you not recall what they said, Ada? About a mysterious man coming to their aid but being unable to locate him afterwards?"

"I do remember." Thranduil nodded. "That man was you but because they had not seen you for eleven years, they did not recognize you."

"They would not have been able to, for I was taken captive by the few Orc survivors." Aragorn flinched when he remembered the pain and torment he had been put through. "Day and night they tortured me, trying out their new _'toys.'"_ He bit out the word. "Then they took me to a land no one should ever have to be imprisoned in."

"Where did they take you, Estel?" Lasgalen had a sinking feeling that he knew what Estel would say.

"Mordor." The room seem to darken at the mention of the dark land. The man paused for a moment before continuing, the internal struggle and anguish visible in his grey eyes. "For seven years, I was imprisoned within the dungeons. The Orcs...They...They..." He broke off, inhaling deeply before exhaling shakily.

"What did they do to you, Estel?" Thranduil gently asked, urging the young man to continue. If Estel told them everything that had happened to him, the nightmares would soon fade and the burden resting on his shoulders would be lightened. He would be put at ease.

Or so he thought.

Estel brought his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he forced himself to go on.

"They experimented on me."

This was not what either expected for him to say. Thranduil's eyes widened a fraction. Estel had been through a horrid ordeal. It was a wonder he was the way he was. Most people he knew would have given up hope or broken but Estel was still strong and pushing himself to continue, trying to bury his past behind him. An unhealthy thing to do, Thranduil mused darkly. The Elvenking could not imagine what the young man had been through for the seven years he was in Mordor. The pain, the suffering...How he survived was beyond the King.

"I have never felt such pain...The Orcs would invent something new and would try it out on one of the prisoners that they had. Most died...but I lived. I survived nearly all of their experiments. Sauron wanted a new army. One that was stronger and more intelligent than Orcs...Which was why he had prisoners. The Nazguls would come for every failed experiment and slaughter many of the prisoners...Men, women, and children alike. The children..." Estel's voice cracked and Thranduil could feel the mortal's pain as though it were his own. Lasgalen was horrified as he listened to Estel's tale. "They were so young...They had their life ahead of them!" He cried. "None should ever have to suffer in such a way...But the Orcs were merciless. It was a game to them. They would drag me from my cell, strap me against whatever new invention they created, and put it to the test. Many times I pleaded with the Valar to let me die. To take me away from the pain. I was so close to death...then one day, it all changed. After five years, the Orcs were growing restless. They were not progressing. No matter what they tried on me, it would never succeed. The Wraiths came on that day. Every prisoner they could find, they killed without a second thought."

Thranduil reached out to clasp Estel's shoulder as the mortal curled further into himself. "It was so dark..." He murmured. "So dark...There was no light. I had not seen the sun in over five years! When the Wraiths arrived, I hid, warning the others to do the same...But they were unable to. Like a coward, I hid and watched as others died by the Wraiths' hands. They left..." Aragorn suppressed the urge to cry as the images of broken and mutilated bodies lying scattered on the floor came to mind. The screams still haunted him to this day. "There were so few left. Already weak and broken, the Orcs disposed of them, but I lived on. Not two weeks after that, the Wraiths returned during one of the Orcs tests. One took me upon his Nazgul..." He trailed off, the horror of that day still fresh in his mind. He became even more distressed, his young features forming a haunted look that Lasgalen and even Thranduil hated to see the mortal wear. Thranduil pursed his lips, bowing his head.

"They took you to Sauron." He stated more than questioned, earning an even more aghast look from his son. Aragorn subconsciously gripped his shoulder with his hand.

"Yes." He uttered in a distraught tone. "The Eye..." The heat had scorched his skin from having been forced before the Dark Lord.

"Did He recognize you?" Thranduil demanded to know, his grip tightening on the man's shoulder. "Tell me He did not know you!"

"No." Estel shook his head and the Elvenking was relieved. "If He had, I would not be standing before you today. He only knew me as 'Thorongil.' I had hidden the ring of Barahir from the Orcs, Wraiths, and Sauron himself. He then proceeded to torture me Himself, breaking through my barriers and entering my mind."

"What did He see? Did you show Him anything?" Feelings not yet familiar to the Elvenking coursed through him. Fear for Estel, horror for what he had been forced through, and remorse that there was no one there for him. Estel shook his head.

"He only saw a few images of my past. Nothing that would give Him too much information. A few glances of Rivendell, of the Rangers, of my time spent with Legolas and the twins. He was unable to get any other information. Somehow...I was able to withstand Him." Aragorn's brow furrowed in confusion. "I had been feeling overwhelmed...broken as Sauron beat me down without even raising a hand. I thought I would die right then. The pain was excruciating...It had all been too much for me to bear, but when I could feel myself shutting down, there was a light...And voices."

Thranduil tilted his head at this.

"They were with you." The Elvenking whispered aloud and at Lasgalen's and Estel's inquisitive glances, explained, "I had a similar experience as to the one you had but I was not facing Sauron. It was during my battle with the Serpents of the North." Thranduil flinched, clenching his teeth as a hand went flying to cover the left side of his fair face from his slip up.

"Ada!"Lasgalen gripped his father's arm in worry and concern. Estel said nothing, nor was he taken aback from the sudden transformation of Thranduil's face, having seen it happen once before when he was but a child. It had not frightened him, as Thranduil had expected it to. Estel, only five at the time, had rushed to him when Thranduil slumped over against his throne, crawling into his lap and touching the other side of his face, instinctively murmuring words in Elvish to soothe the pain before asking if he were alright. It had stunned Thranduil. Very rarely was the Elvenking left speechless, but there were many moments when Estel would take him aback. That was one of the moments Thranduil remembered. Estel never left him for the rest of that day, and despite Thranduil's earlier aversion to the human, he felt himself drawn to the child and soon, Estel had wormed his way into his heart. Legolas had been greatly pleased to know his Ada was now on friendlier terms with Estel.

Thranduil shut his eyes against the pain and felt Estel reach out to cover his hand with his own and listened as Estel whispered words in Elvish. The pain was soon repressed and the scars faded until they could no longer be seen.

"Are you well, Ada?" Lasgalen asked, still concerned. Thranduil nodded.

"I am fine." He tersely replied, but the two did not take any offence from his tone, knowing it was from the pain. "As I was saying, during one of my battles against the last...beast I faced, I was severely burned. None of my warriors could come to my aid...Not even my own Father. I had believed, at the time, that it was the end. I was dying and nothing anyone could do could change that." Thranduil locked gazes with Estel. "Our forefathers were watching over us. They knew it was not yet our time and interfered before we could meet our end."

"You mean to say...It was my ancestors who saved me from Sauron?" Aragorn breathed. "I remember the light...the voices calling to me...I even saw..." his eyes widened.

"Who did you see, Estel?" Lasgalen asked, intrigued.

"I must have seen Elros." Aragorn slowly looked up, a bit awed. "I had thought it was Elrond...He told me to take his hand. I did...And the next thing I knew, I was lying on the borders of Lothlorien where I was then found by Haldir and taken to the Lady Galadriel." It was a moment before Aragorn's amazement faded, becoming more troubled. "But despite Lady Galadriel's power, she was unable to heal me. It was on that day I discovered the horrid truth." Aragorn lowered his head and the Elves could sense all of the conflicting emotions swirling about him.

"Estel?" Thranduil wondered whether he should urge the mortal to tell him or if he should let the man be. Estel had already told him so much.

"The Orcs did not fail...They succeeded in creating something they did not expect..."

"The Orcs have created what Sauron wanted then?" Lasgalen asked, troubled by this thought. "Something more powerful than Orcs?"

"Nay...They were unable to create the army Sauron wished for. Instead, they created a weapon...A weapon capable of great destruction."

"A weapon? That is even worse!" Lasgalen murmured mostly to himself, noticing how Aragorn cringed at his comment. Thranduil had a feeling that he knew why.

"What is this weapon, Estel?" He slowly asked, hoping that his guess was incorrect.

" _I_ ," Aragorn raised his head, his grey eyes darker than before, a shadow cast over his features. "-Am that weapon."

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Elrond entered the throne room and was surprised to find that Thranduil was nowhere to be seen. Normally, the Sindar would be lounging in his throne, legs cast over one side, an arm lazily hanging from the edge, and staring up into the sparkling ceiling in boredom. But he was not there. Stepping out of the throne room, Elrond wandered over one bridge leading to the private indoor garden. The one Thranduil's dear wife, a woman Elrond and his family had been blessed to meet, had grown herself. For a moment, Elrond reminisced the precious moments his family had been able to share with Thranduil's wife, a beautiful Elleth of Gondolin origin. Or, that was what many believed. Only Elrond, his wife, Glorfindel, Erestor, and Thranduil knew of where she truly came from. He soon came upon the great doors that lead to the garden and opened them, silently entering them to find Thranduil exactly where he knew he would be. Thranduil was in the center of the garden, leaning against one of the pillars of the gazebo , arms and legs crossed as he stared at the pure white flowers before him. Elrond frowned. His cousin was troubled. Thranduil only came here either to reminisce the past or when he was troubled and being somewhere that brought him nearer to his wife helped to alleviate him.

The Elvenking appeared deep in thought, his mask no longer in place as he allowed his emotions to be set free. There was confusion, concern, and he appeared unsettled by something. These were one of the rare moments Thranduil allowed himself to be just himself. Not a King, nor a parent, but Thranduil, son of Oropher.

"Thranduil?"

Thranduil's piercing ice blue orbs snapped over to where Elrond stood. Almost immediately, the mask slipped into place as he straightened himself but Elrond was not fooled.

"You are troubled."

"It is nothing of your concern." Thranduil smoothly said but Elrond narrowed his eyes.

"You do not fool me, Thranduil. I can tell when something is grating on your nerves." Elrond told him and Thranduil looked away, his mask once again slipping as the troubled expression returned.

"I am afraid you cannot it is a matter your cannot help me with, my friend." Thranduil said to Elrond.

"Does it have to do with one of your children?" Elrond inquired, recognizing the look in Thranduil's eyes well. The Sindar, he could tell, wanted to do something about whatever matter was troubling him, but was at a loss for what to do.

"Yes and no." Thranduil absentmindedly replied, confusing Elrond. It did have something to do with one of his children and yet, at the same time, it did not? "I was informed of something today that is rather serious. Something I never expected to happen, and yet it has. But I do not know what I can do of the matter other than offer comfort." He added, clearly torn. Elrond allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Few knew his friend as well as he. Beneath his cold and heartless facade, was a caring and rather kind Elf,, though, if he disliked someone, he did nothing to hide it. He was protective of his children and his people. Thranduil wanted nothing but the best for those he watched over. He was not selfish as most believed him to be. The King always had a reason for whatever acts he performed. "He has suffered much..."

The softness Elrond could hear in his tone surprised the Half-Elf before he remembered that it was one of Thranduil's children they spoke of. At least, that was what he believed. For Thranduil, he was worried for Estel. After admitting that he was a weapon created by the Enemy, Thranduil now understood why Estel remained hidden. He did not wish to harm anyone. The mortal feared that at any moment, he would suddenly turn and destroy all that he knew and loved and become responsible for many innocent lives. Not that Thranduil could blame him. It was something to be feared but for some reason, Thranduil found himself strangely calm. Normally, if Thranduil knew of a threat that could potentially harm his family or people, he would dispose of it at once however he could. But this was Estel. He could never bring himself to harm the mortal in any way. Estel had begged him to say nothing to his family, nor even Legolas. Nordawyth already knew, seeing as she had entered the room at the moment Estel told his tale. Estel believed himself to be tainted, and it pained Thranduil to know that he could do nothing for the suffering man. He was, for what felt like the first time, at a loss of what to do. He could not let the boy go. No, then Estel would be in danger.

After having learned that he was a weapon, Estel told Thranduil that there was a dangerous man, one who served Sauron, with powers equal to those of a Istari, who was after him. The Wizard could force Estel to do whatever he wished him to do. He could bend the man to do his will. That, or he could return him to Sauron and the Dark Lord could do as he pleased with the mortal. Estel also admitted, after Nordawyth pestered him, of assassins that wished him dead. This was even more worrisome. Thranduil was faced with a difficult choice to make. Already, there had been one attempt on Estel's life. What angered him was that it was an Elf who attacked him and it happened in _his_ kingdom.

"I know not what to do." He admitted. "His life is in danger. If I were to let him go, as he wishes, he could be killed. If I were to keep him, several others are in danger of being injured. How could the Valar allow such a thing to happen to him?" Thranduil muttered darkly, wishing he could take Estel's burden as his own, but that was impossible. Elrond blinked for a moment, gazing at Thranduil. This must be a serious matter indeed if Thranduil was speaking in such a way! "He is young but no longer innocent. His innocence was harshly stripped from him once he stepped out of the door of his home for the first time on his own. Eight years he suffered at their hands!" Thranduil then froze and Elrond sharply looked to him. Thranduil cursed inwardly, praying to the Valar that Elrond would not recognize of whom he spoke of. He had given a rather large hint and Elrond was a very observant Elf.

Luckily for Thranduil, Elrond did not catch on to the rather obvious hint. Elrond was only concerned and when Thranduil abruptly cut off, Elrond feared something was amiss. Thranduil, Elrond noted, looked rather...apprehensive? As though he expected for him to have caught onto something Thranduil did not mean for him to. This made Elrond's suspicions rise. Thranduil was hiding something...Something that involved Elrond himself in a way. If that was so, then why was Thranduil withholding this information from him?

There was more to this than met the eye, Elrond knew, but he would not press the King into telling him. That would be rather unwise on his part.

"Thranduil!" A familiar voice called out and the two Elven Lords looked to see Glorfindel approaching them. "I spoke to E-" The Balrog Slayer caught sight of Elrond and smoothly corrected what he was about to say in an instant. "-them."

"I take it they told you then?"

Glorfindel nodded, his aura darkening slightly. "Aye, I was told." He nearly growled and Elrond quirked an eyebrow. Something was definitely happening here. If Thranduil was concerned and Glorfindel was this uptight, Elrond knew this matter was not to be taken lightly. But what were they going on about? Had something happened during Glorfindel's stay in Mirkwood? And why were they not telling him anything? Normally, if they needed aid, they would ask Elrond but this time, they seemed to be keeping something from him and Elrond was unsure as to whether he should feel miffed or worried. He could tell Glorfindel wished to tell him everything and did not agree with the secrecy, but the Balrog Slayer was keeping it to himself. "I can understand the reasons I was given but at the same time, I do not agree." Glorfindel huffed, slightly irked. "I do not know what to do."

"Neither do I." Thranduil sighed. "Neither do I."

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn watched from a distance as Legolas and the twins ran about the gardens, bickering and chasing one another. He yearned to go out there and see his bro-them, but he could not. It was too dangerous and a risk he was unwilling to take. Now that he had admitted everything to Thranduil, Lasgalen, and Nordawyth, the heavy weight resting upon his shoulders was lightened, but he was still uneasy. They knew the danger he posed on them and worried greatly. What could he do? At any moment, he could snap. He could turn against them. Aragorn knew not what would happen should that ever occur, nor did he ever want to find out.

A hand took hold of his own and Aragorn turned to find Nordawyth standing there, offering what comfort she could. Aragorn gave her a grateful smile, squeezing her hand lightly in thanks. It was times like these that Aragorn was thankful for the friends that he had. He was surprised with how the Elvenking had taken everything and even more so surprised when Thranduil told him they would find some way to help him. That he had nothing to fear.

"Everything will be okay, Estel." Nordawyth whispered so neither of the three Elves, who were acting like children, would hear. Aragorn breathed a sigh.

"I do not know, Nordawyth. I am frightened." He quietly murmured. "Frightened of what could happen. Of what I could become. Should the wizard find me and take me before Sauron..."

"Do not focus on that." Nordawyth sternly told him. "You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, Estel. You can fight this."

"At what cost? I cannot run forever, Nordawyth! Lives will be lost. I will be forced to watch, or perhaps even tricked into taking part in the slaying of those I care for! At any given moment, I could turn against you."

"Estel," Nordawyth whipped around to face him, poking his chest with her finger. "That. Will. Never. Happen. You will not allow it to happen. You have been in tight situations before-"

"But nothing as grave as this!" Estel whisper-shouted, flinging his hands a bit.

"And so what?" Nordawyth shrugged her shoulders. "It is only another bridge that you must build and get over."

"It is not as simple as that!" Estel tugged at his hair in frustration. Nordawyth only gave him her infamous 'You-are-clearly-overreacting' looks.

"It is probably simpler than you think."

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Estel found himself seated on the railing of his balcony, gazing up at the night sky. He was lost, confused, and uncertain. What was he to do? Everything had happened so fast...

He sighed.

"Ada...I wish you were here." Aragorn whispered, referring to his deceased Father. "I do not know what to do..." He sighed, feeling defeated and retreated into his room, climbing into the comfortable bed that awaited him and fell asleep.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

 _"Look out!" A voice cried and Aragorn jumped, snapping his head in the direction of the voice._

 _"Scatter!" Another voice, one that held authority to it, ordered and Aragorn watched as several men before him bolted in separate directions. One man caught his eye. The one who was sprinting towards him. He had shoulder length, dark brown hair, calm and comforting grey eyes, with some stubble on his face. He wore dark Ranger garbs, and for a moment, Aragorn thought he was staring at his reflection. It wasn't his reflection, he realized. The man was older than he and clearly wiser. When the Ranger went to pass Aragorn, he skidded to a stop, turning around and peering right through the man, as though searching for something. The man then shuddered as though he were cold and shot off into the shadows of the forest. Aragorn blinked after him before following hoping to find out who this man was. He found the man hiding behind a rather large tree, peering around it and looking for something. Aragorn turned, brow raised when he saw many Orcs appear out of the blue, shrieking and jeering as they hunted the Rangers down. The man pressed himself further against the tree, leaning over and counting the Orcs._

 _"Ten..." He whispered lowly to himself. "I should be able to take them." He gripped the hilt of his sword, silently counting to three. A cry emitted from his lips as he suddenly charged the Orcs, his sword in hand. His lethal strike decapitated the Orc nearest him and he ran his sword through the heart of another, ripping his blade out and slitting the throat of another. Now there were only seven- no, now six- left. Aragorn watched, amazed, as the man effortlessly slew every single Orc, skillfully maneuvering his blade as though it were a part of him. He spun here and there to avoid being struck, calculated his opponent's next move and struck. Not once was the man injured in any way and soon, all of the Orcs were dead. The man knelt on the ground beside one of the Orcs and reached down to take its pack. Clearly, the Orc was the leader seeing as it was the largest of the group and had red marks on his armor. Aragorn watched as the man searched the pack he had taken then tossed it aside, finding that it was useless. "What did they want?" He wondered aloud, turning his grey eyes up at the sky. Aragorn, sensing something was amiss, looked to see something hidden within the shadows, notching an arrow to their bow. Alarmed, he looked to find the man was oblivious of the danger he was in. The arrow was ready to be released._

 _"Look out!" Aragorn found himself yelling, then cursing when he realized the man could not hear him. To his surprise, the man suddenly started when he had hollered and jerked to the side just as the arrow was let loose. It sailed through the air and Aragorn watched in dismay as it embedded itself into the man's shoulder. The man gave a small cry of pain before throwing himself to the side to hide against a nearby tree for protection. The Orc growled whenever the man moved. It had had the perfect shot but somehow, the man knew of his being there. It went to finish the man off when a sudden chill settled in the air nearest him and its bow, that it had raised, was oddly stilled. It could not move it, as though something or someone were holding it. The Orc grew uneasy. Something was definitely wrong here. It could sense something was near. Actually, something was standing right before it, but the Orc could not see whatever it was._

 _"Arathorn!" A young man burst through the trees and Aragorn whipped his head around, eyes wide. The young man was no older than twenty-two with black, shoulder length hair, matched with grey eyes wearing a dark blue outfit that blended well with the night._

 _'Halbarad,' Aragorn mouthed to himself and turned shocked grey orbs to the man with the arrow in his shoulder. "Arathorn?" He repeated softly as Halabarad lunged at the Orc he had held within his grasp. Arathorn's head snapped up, eyes staring where Aragorn was standing, brow furrowed as they flickered back and forth, trying to find something. Aragorn stepped closer to the man as Halbarad scouted for more Orcs. He stopped when he was about ten feet away and Arathorn was still looking towards him, eyes narrowing._

 _Aragorn stood there for what felt to be a long while, staring down at the Ranger. 'This...is my Father?' He thought to himself before feeling lightheaded and glanced down to find himself fading. He did not feel alarmed, for he knew he was only waking up._

 _But something was wrong._

 _His senses were screaming for him to hurry and wake up. Aragorn took one last look at Arathorn before closing his eyes and forcing himself to wake, reluctant to leave this dream._

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Arathorn slew the Orcs without any issue, gazing down at the corpses in disgust as he searched for the leader. He soon found the leader, a dead Orc. Kneeling down, he took hold of the Orc's pack, but his mind was far away. Something odd had happened to him only a few moment prior to his battle with these Orcs. He had ordered his men to break apart and run, and when he followed through with his own order, he had suddenly been overcome with a cold feeling and an odd sense that he was being watched. He had paused for a few moments, locating the source of the chill. It was coming from right beside him, but when he looked, there was nothing there. Now, Arathorn was even more sure that he was being watched. He searched through the Orc's pack then tossed it aside, finding nothing in it that would help him or the Rangers to discover the Orcs' purpose near Rivendell.

"What did they want?" he asked himself, wondering what could lead the Orcs to come this close to Imladris. And how had the Elves not noticed them? He pondered this for a moment when he felt the abrupt urge to move. It was a very powerful feeling that coursed through him and Arathorn immediately shifted. He was knocked back when an arrow slammed into his shoulder and with a small cry, Arathorn fell back. Knowing that he was not out of harm's way, Arathorn forced himself to move and take cover behind a large tree. He clutched the arrow in his shoulder, biting his lower lip against the pain, peering around the tree and searching. He thought briefly of the sudden impulse he had felt. For some reason, the man felt it had come from somewhere around him. Something had warned him of the danger. His Elvish senses had been dulled from a previous attack, and he definitely had not heard the Orc approach him. He located the Orc some yards away and watched as it notched an arrow and came his way. He clutched his dagger then watched, confused, as the Orc came to a jerky halt, the bow it held immobile. What had the Orc sensed? More danger? He continued to watch as the Orc's yellow eyes stared ahead of itself, as though searching for something.

"Arathorn!" A familiar voice called out and young Halbarad burst through the trees, took one look at him, then the Orc, then lunged at the hideous creature. Arathorn paid no attention to Halbarad or the Orc, the chill from before faintly returning. What had stopped the Orc? What was there?

 _"A..th..r..n..."_ Arathorn jerked his head up, eyes widening a fraction. He was certain he had just heard a voice. It was very quiet but Arathorn knew he had heard something. He looked over to where Halbarad was slaying the Orc and narrowed his eyes.

There was something there!

It was faint, but Arathorn could see the outline of whatever stood there. It was almost like a shadow, but sheer and a lighter shade. It came closer, and closer, until it came to a stop a few feet before him.

' _What is it?'_ Arathorn asked himself, forgetting all about his wound. He felt oddly comforted and calm when the shadow then began to fade away until it was no longer there. He stared at the spot for a long while.

"Arathorn!" Halbarad appeared before him, taking in the arrow that was deep within his shoulder. "We must take you to the Healers." The young man concernedly said before noticing that his Chieftain and Uncle was rather distracted. "Uncle?" Arathorn seemed to shake himself from whatever daze he was in and gave the man a comforting smile.

"I am well, Halbarad."

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn flew upright in his bed only to suddenly be knocked aside and onto the ground, a heavy weight pressed against him. A hand wrapped itself around his throat and tightened its hold. Aragorn gripped his offender's wrist and opened his eyes to find there was an assassin above him. That would explain why he had woken so abruptly. He struggled against the assassin, kicking the man off of him and reaching for his dagger, gripping it tightly. The assassin growled and lunged but Aragorn rolled out of the way, leaping to his feet immediately.

"Who sent you?" Aragorn demanded to know as they circled one another. The assassin, Aragorn could barely see, smiled beneath his hood. A malicious smile.

"Someone you know quite well...And fear." Came the reply.

"Who?" Aragorn lowly hissed, tired of all these assassins giving him such vague answers.

"Why does it matter?" The assassin asked. "Soon, you will be dead."

"So you think." Aragorn and the assassin attacked simultaneously, Aragorn avoiding the blows the assassin gave and the assassin narrowly missing being nicked by Aragorn's dagger. This assassin, Aragorn could tell, was also irked that he had woken up. He smirked. These assassins needed to work on their stealth. He was a very light sleeper, seeing as he was a Ranger and always needed to be alert for danger. The assassin viciously attacked once again, his dagger flying towards Aragorn, who parried the blow with his own weapon. The assassin spun to the side then lunged but Aragorn sidestepped and swiped at the assassin's back, leaving a cut behind as the assassin hissed and whipped around, his own dagger narrowly missing Aragorn's throat. What happened next was all a blur for Aragorn.

He found himself lying on the ground, the assassin bent over above him, his dagger positioned to strike. The sounds of metal tearing into flesh filled the room as Aragorn cried out, pain shooting up his arm and side. There was a large 'bang' and the assassin was bowled over. Aragorn squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and weakly rolled over, coughing slightly as he watched two blurs fight next to him. One, he could clearly tell was the assassin from the black clothing, and the other was an Elf. A very enraged Elf.

"You think you can barge into my home and harm my little brother, do you? Well, I hate to break it to you, but no one gets away with hurting my family!"

"Nor...daw...yth..." Aragorn weakly managed a grin. The assassin gave a cry of pain when the she-Elf landed a rather grievous blow to him but the Elleth was far from through. She continued to beat him down, viciously twisting her knives and kicking him to the side. Aragorn's eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see the assassin struggling to defend himself, but the Ranger knew it was pointless. When Nordawyth was this furious, there was no stopping her until she was through. He frowned when he heard Nordawyth grunt and keel over before forcing herself back up and pounding the assassin with violent strikes until she finally had him trapped. She was clutching something against her side while doing so but Aragorn could not see what.

"Say goodnight!" Nordawyth struck his head with the hilt of one of her knives, either knocking him unconscious or killing him instantly, Aragorn knew not. Kicking the body aside, Nordawyth rushed over to Aragorn just as four beings rushed into the room. Aragorn held his breath, praying to the Valar it wasn't who he thought it was.

"What has happened?" One demanded to know. Aragorn nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Glorfindel's voice.

"An assassin!" Legolas disbelievingly said before his eyes found the still form of his friend lying on the ground. "Estel!" He rushed over and fell to his knees beside the man.

"Estel?!" Everyone froze, Thranduil even closing his eyes as he slowly turned to face the Elf standing in the doorway with two others flanking his sides.

"Elrond."

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

No one moved and Aragorn dared not breath as he hid his face in the crook of Legolas's arm. Elrond's eyes lit up with realization as he looked to Thranduil and Glorfindel.

"He was the one you were hiding from me." He stated rather than questioned. Elrohir and Elladan were still in shock as they stood beside their Father before turning to look at Legolas and Lasgalen, hurt crossing their expressions.

"You knew he was here and did not tell us?!" They chimed.

"Now is not the time." Nordawyth's voice wheezed and everyone looked to her. "Estel is injured. You should check to make sure it isn't serious." She said and Thranduil nodded in agreement, carefully lifting the mortal into his arms, heading for the door. He paused for a moment, giving Elrond a look every Elf knew rather well.

"We will speak later." Was all he said as he made his way to the Healing Ward. Lasgalen and Legolas followed close behind. Glorfindel tugged Elrond's arm, pulling the still-shocked Elf along with him, gesturing for the twins to follow. The twins did, glancing back to see Nordawyth leaning against the doorway, her complexion drained of all color. She was as white as the bedsheets in Estel's room.

"Nordawyth?" The She-Elf shook herself from her daze and cast them a reassuring smile.

"Just a little tired." She told them as the three followed the other Elves. Once they arrived to the Healing Ward, Elrond immediately set to work on the wound. Aragorn had his eyes closed, which the Noldor was grateful for. He did not know if he could even face the mortal. Erestor's words he had spoken decades earlier rang in Elrond's mind and the Elf-Lord struggled to focus on his task. Aragorn bit his lip when Elrond pressed his fingers against his side. Legolas stood by the bedside, offering silent comfort.

"It is not severe." Elrond informed them some time later after cleaning the wound. Everyone relaxed except Thranduil. Though he kept his cool facade, inside, the Elvenking was boiling with rage. _Another_ assassination attempt within his kingdom, but this time, the assassin had nearly succeeded in killing the young mortal. He had sent guards to throw the assassin into the dungeons to be questioned later. He would get answers one way or another. Aragorn sighed once it was over and slowly sat up, Legolas aiding him carefully.

"How are you feeling Estel?" Legolas asked, concern lacing his tone. Aragorn nodded, gritting his teeth.

"Just fine."

"Of course you are." Lasgalen sarcastically muttered. "Everytime you tell us you are 'fine', Estel, something always happens." Aragorn cast him a glare.

"It hurts a little."

"Much better." Lasgalen grinned slightly and Aragorn suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He was given no time to retort when the sound of something hitting the floor echoed through the room.

"Dara!" Legolas cried in dismay and Thranduil whipped around to find Nordawyth had crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood growing beneath her body.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

 _ **Finally done with this chapter. My last computer crashed on me so we returned it to the store and got me another one, so that's the reason why I haven't been able to update lately. Prepare yourselves for the next chapter! :)**_


	6. Impossible

_**Here we are! The next chapter is finally up!**_

 _ **-Granted-**_

Thranduil was immediately by his daughter's side, carefully cradling her in his arms as he called out to her.

"Nordawyth!" He gently shook the Elleth, his eyes drawn to the wound in her side. The assassin, he noted with growing rage, had managed to stab his daughter during their fight. Glorfindel immediately ripped a part of his robe off and staunched the bleeding as best he could, the two elder Elves placing the pale Elleth onto the nearest sickbed. Elrond was beside them at once, checking Nordawyth's wound. Legolas and Lasgalen fought the urge to crowd around them, watching with apprehension as the Elf-Lord went to heal there sister.

"His dagger must have broken some time during their battle." Elrond frowned. "There is a piece of it within the wound. Elrohir."

The youngest twin handed his Father the things he needed and Elrond quickly pulled out the broken dagger piece then placed his hands over the wound, chanting in Sindarin as he healed it. Aragorn worriedly watched from where he sat, gripping the covers tightly. Nordawyth's eyes fluttered open, glazed over with pain as she met her Father's gaze.

"Estel...?" She weakly asked. Thranduil took her hand and brushed some of her hair from her face.

"He is well, Dara. Elrond healed him." Nordawyth managed a weak smile before grimacing in pain. "The assassin..."

"He has been taken care of." Thranduil replied, trying to appear calm but failing to do so. "Now save your strength." Nordawyth shook her head.

"Ada..." She closed her eyes tightly, inhaling sharply. "Watch over...Las...and Leaf..."

"Dara? What are you saying?" Lasgalen somehow found his voice but it was weak.

"I won't...be able to..."

"Yes, you will, Dara!" Legolas interrupted her, tears threatening to fall as he furiously blinked them away. Nordawyth weakly shook her head with a gentle smile playing on her lips.

"Estel..." Nordawyth looked to the mortal, who was frozen where he sat. Aragorn met her gaze, refusing to believe this was happening. She only gave him a look, silently communicating to him. She slumped further into the mattress, her grip on her Father's hand loosening. Thranduil tightened his hold and watched as Elrond started to close the wound. Nordawyth exhaled shakily, but never inhaled.

"Ada, she's stopped breathing!" Elladan exclaimed and Thranduil's eyes flew to his daughter's face. It was true. Nordawyth had taken a shallow breath but her chest was no longer rising nor falling.

"Dara?" Legolas whispered in horror, Lasgalen gripping his shoulder.

"Poison!" Elrond inwardly cursed himself. How could he have forgotten to check for such a thing! It was an assassin's blade for Valar's sake! "Elladan!" The elder twin was instantly at his Father's side as Elrond tried to get the young Elleth to breath. She jerked as they used their Elven magic to revive her, but nothing they did seemed to be working. Elrohir tried to find out what poison the assassin had used, but the dagger piece wasn't showing him anything. She wouldn't breathe.

"Breathe, Dara, breathe!" Lasgalen cried as Legolas tightened his hold on his arm. Aragorn flung the covers aside ignoring the pain in his aching side as he went over the Elves. No one dared to stop him as Aragorn clutched her hand and went to help Elrond and Elladan with reviving her.

"Come on, Dara." He whispered as they fought to save her. Nordawyth's light was dimming, a sign that the Elleth fading. "No! Don't you dare give up, Dara!"

"It was a Morgul shaft!" Elrohir's horrified cry broke through to them and Elrond's eyes widened. How could the assassin have gotten hold of such a weapon? A weapon of the Nazgul? Aragorn felt his heart sink. They had found him. There was only one place that assassin could have come from. They may not have succeeded in killing him, but they had claimed another. Elrond frantically fought to keep Nordawyth from giving in but he could not get through to her. Thranduil's normally cold and piercing eyes were now dancing with fear, dismay, and horror as he watched the three Noldor and Estel fight for his Daughter's life. He could sense her letting go and inwardly yelled for her not to give up. It was hopeless.

Nordawyth's head rolled limply to the side, her arm sliding from where it rested on her stomach onto the mattress. Time seemed to freeze, no one quite wanting to accept what had just come to pass.

"She's gone..." Elladan weakly murmured, Thranduil's eyes widening as he clutched his robe, Glorfindel's arm snapping out to keep the Elvenking from falling as excruciating pain overwhelmed the Sindar.

The pain of losing a child.

 _"NO!"_

Thranduil hardly heard Legolas's agonized shout as he stared at his beautiful daughter, lying deathly still on the sickbed. Elrond was cursing in Dwarvish as he battled against the morgul poison, trying with all his might to bring Nordawyth back. Lasgalen staggered back in shock, lowering himself into a nearby chair, gasping as he began to weep bitterly, Legolas refusing to believe his sister was dead, the twins watching as their Father tried in vain to revive the Elleth. Glorfindel's grief was evident as he shook his head.

"She is with Mandos now, Elrond." He softly said.

"Curse the Valar!" Elrond shouted, trembling from having overexerted himself. Thranduil raised a shaking hand to cup his daughter's cheek, a tear slipping down his fair face, silently begging for her to wake. For this to be a terribly cruel prank she was playing with them...To see her smiling face once again. But Thranduil knew that was not to be. His daughter was dead. She was never coming back. He delicately raised Nordawyth up and held her against him one last time, burying his face in her hair as he allowed the tears to flow, the pain in his chest growing as a piece of his heart shattered. She was so cold...

Lasgalen forced himself to move, wrapping his arms around Legolas and pulled his brother against him. Legolas fell back against his brother, Elladan and Elrohir's eyes glittering with tears as they tried to bring themselves to accept the fact that their dear friend, a sister, was gone. Elrond slumped against the couch, shaking his head. He had failed. How could he have failed? How could he not have been able to save her?

For Aragorn, he felt that the world had suddenly come crashing down as he stared at the sight before him.

' _She's dead...'_ The words echoed in his mind as he slowly stood and backed away. Dead.

Anguish filled his entire being as well as grief as the tears flowed freely and soaked his tunic. The sight of Thranduil embracing his daughter one last time tore Aragorn's heart apart. It was all too much. The Elleth he had come to know and love as the sister he never had was now residing in Mandos's Halls. A sudden idea struck him and Aragorn brow furrowed with determination.

"Move aside." He said as he took Elrohir's place beside Elrond. "I am going to need help." He looked to Thranduil, who understood exactly what Aragorn was about to do.

"You tried that once before-" Aragorn held a hand up, halting the King mid-sentence.

"And I succeeded but payed a short price. Elrond is here should I fail."

"You are injured, Estel." Thranduil shook his head. "I cannot, will not-" He sighed. "What is the point? You would only do it anyways." Aragorn affirmed the statement then turned to Glorfindel.

"You will help me?"

"You do not need to ask, Tithen Pen." Glorfindel gently smiled as Aragorn bowed his head and called out to Nordawyth.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

The morning in Mirkwood was somber. The people feared for the life of their princess, whom they had loved and respected much. Thranduil, Legolas, and Lasgalen spent most of their time together, Thranduil attempting to be strong for his sons as he held them while they wept. Legolas was worse off than everyone, having been the closest to Nordawyth than any other person. She had been there for him ever since he was young. When their Naneth had been killed, Nordawyth raised him and Lasgalen in her stead, teaching them all that they knew now and more. She was the one who encouraged Legolas to take up archery and continued to push him to keep practicing and now, he was the best archer in all of Arda. She had trained him, taught him, and always comforted him. Anytime he had a nightmare, he would wake to find Nordawyth holding him within her arms and singing softly, lulling him back to sleep. When he was hurt or injured, she made him feel better by finding a way to make him laugh or smile. She gave him hope in times of despair.

Lasgalen was no better and neither was Thranduil. Elrond and the twins were also greatly affected by Nordawyth's fight for survival. She had become like family to them. Another daughter to Elrond and sister to the twins. What shocked Aragorn the most was Glorfindel.

He had known the Balrog Slayer cared for the Woodland Princess, but he never knew in what way. He had found the Elf seated on a window sill in the grand library, staring out into the distant sky, grief clouding over his fair features, golden hair cascading over his shoulders and down his back, splayed about the sill. His blue eyes had a distant look within them as the Balrog Slayer clutched a book in his hand.

"Glorfindel?" Aragorn quietly called, and the Golden Elf spared him a look, smiling weakly.

"Estel." Aragorn looked about the library before gesturing to the book.

"What is that?" He asked, taking a seat beside Glorfindel. Glorfindel sighed.

"It was Dara's favorite book. She would always come to the library and read every book she could find, but this one always had a place in her heart." Glorfindel answered, leaning against the window. "It came from Gondolin. Written by one of the most renowned writers of Arda. I had taken it with me from Valinor when I returned to Middle-Earth." He continued. "I left it in the library one day and Dara happened to come across it." A fond smile graced his lips as he recalled the day. "She had been quite enthusiastic to find it. Ever since she had been an Elfling, she had wanted to read it but no one had the book. Not one library nor any person. I overheard her telling her Father about how excited she had been to finally be able to read it. Her birthday happened to be coming up, so for a gift, I gave her my book."

Aragorn listened intently to the tale, observing the way the Elf spoke about the Princess. He was clearly fond of her.

"She was quite the trouble maker, always getting into some type of danger. I was blessed with the opportunity to become fast friends with her when Thranduil sent her to Rivendell for protection. We would go exploring throughout the land, sometimes crossing the borders..." Glorfindel sighed. "She had an interesting personality, but hardly any disliked her."

"You love her." Aragorn uttered aloud and Glorfindel looked to him again.

"I do." He dipped his head in acknowledgement to the statement.

"You never told her?" Aragorn asked as a look of regret flickered in Glorfindel's eyes. Glorfindel nearly released an un-Elf like snort.

"I am thousands of years older than she, Estel. Thranduil was, and is, my closest friend. When I realized that I loved his only daughter, I could not say anything of it out of fear of what would happen. I was unsure of how Thranduil would react should I have told him that I loved Nordawyth. For years, I tried convincing myself that it would pass but it never did. It only grew stronger to the point I had to distance myself from the Elleth." Glorfindel openly admitted, much to Aragorn's surprise. "Thranduil had already lost so much. Nordawyth brought joy to his life and then Lasgalen was born, and I wouldn't dare take that away from him. She was young and innocent but I was tainted. Besides, I never thought it would ever be possible for her to reciprocate my feelings. I was only Glorfindel, the Balrog Slayer twice reborn."

"But Nordawyth would not have seen you as the famed warrior most do." Aragorn shook his head and Glorfindel chuckled.

"No. She saw me as just Glorfindel. Not Glorfindel of Gondolin, Glorfindel the Balrog Slayer, or the Twice Reborn Warrior...Only Glorfindel. Something I was always thankful for. She did not treat me any differently than others, always viewing everyone as her equals. She was humble and caring. A fighter with a passion. She begged for me to teach her how to protect herself and after some time, I gave in. I trained her and helped her to strengthen the skills she already had. She excelled greatly, using my techniques to train Legolas and Lasgalen."

"And yet, you never told her."

"Nay. I never did. I do regret it, always have regretted it, but I could not bring myself to betray Thranduil's trust or even take away Nordawyth's innocence. She deserved far better."

Glorfindel continued to tell Aragorn more about Nordawyth, answering every one of the mortal's questions. The conversation brought a soothing calm over them as they spoke about Nordawyth, sharing stories they had about their time spent with the Elleth, both oblivious to the Ellon standing just outside the doorway, watching them.

Thranduil closed his eyes as regret filled his heart, listening to the tales Glorfindel had to share.

"Glorfindel..."

It all made sense to the King. Whenever Thranduil would come to visit his daughter in Rivendell, Glorfindel was careful around him. The Elvenking had known he was hiding something from him but had waited for Glorfindel to approach him rather than call him out on it. The large amount of time his daughter and Glorfindel spent together, training, exploring, or just enjoying one another's company. When Glorfindel abruptly distanced himself from Nordawyth, convincing Thranduil to take Nordawyth back to the Greenwood with him, claiming she would be safe within her own Kingdom. When Glorfindel risked his neck several times for her. All of these were signs that should have alerted Thranduil and told him that there was something more going on. But Thranduil never thought much about it. To think Glorfindel was afraid of how he would have reacted and feared taking his daughter away from him sent a pang of guilt through the Sindar. Glorfindel cared more of Thranduil's happiness rather than his own, sacrificing his own love and casting it aside to ensure that Thranduil would always have his one and only daughter close by.

Thranduil silently sighed, blue eyes swirling with several different emotions as he moved away from the library and left for the inner gardens.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn, for the next few days, did his best to avoid being seen by Elrond or the twins. He would check on Nordawyth to see how she was fairing, but to his dismay, she didn't seem to be getting any better. Nor was she getting any worse, much to his relief. He had entered the world in-between and found Nordawyth with the help of Glorfindel and Thranduil. She had promised to fight in order to survive, but the morgul poison was strong. She had woken once, which was a good sign that she would most likely make it. Aragorn continued on his walk on the safer paths of the forest, enjoying his time he had alone. He knew if he were to see Glorfindel now, the Balrog Slayer would lecture him about keeping his dark secret from Elrond and the twins. But Estel had never quite forgiven himself for what he had done those many years ago and he was not quite sure how Elrond and the twins would act around him. It had been twenty-eight years. As he walked, a foreboding feeling grew within him. Examining his surroundings, Aragorn found that there was no danger anywhere nearby. He frowned and turned to return to the palace.

That was when he saw it.

The rising smoke coming from the direction of the palace and the faint screams in the distance.

"Valar!" He breathed in disbelief, racing down the path to see what had happened. Before he could reach it, however, several Orcs leaped onto the path. Aragorn skidded to a stop, taking in the weapons the Orcs had. "Orcs...this close to the palace?" He wondered to himself, wishing he had taken his blade with him. Aragorn noticed that the stable was on fire and the Orcs were attacking whoever was nearest them. He caught sight of Glorfindel and Lasgalen battling the fire while the twins, Legolas, and Elrond dispatched the Orcs. He looked at the Orcs before him, gave them a smile, turned, and bolted. The Orcs shrieked and chased after him.

"Estel!" He heard Ro call and glanced over his shoulder to see the twins fighting to get to him.

"Stay there, Dan, Ro!" He shouted back, and the twins stopped. "I'll be fine!"

"You don't have a weapon!" Elladan hollered after him but Estel was gone.

"Quickly!" Glorfindel mounted Asfaloth and took off after the mortal, worried Estel would get hurt.

"Glorfindel!" Thranduil called after him. "The fool! There are over a hundred Orc in the forest! Lasgalen," Thranduil mounted his Elk. "I leave you in charge. Legolas, you will be Captain of the Guard in my absence. We should return soon!"

"Yes, Ada!" The Elves nodded. Elladan and Elrohir wisely stayed behind with their Father as Thranduil raced away on his Elk.

Aragorn sprinted as fast as he could, leading several Orcs away from the palace. He could hear the patrolling Elves nearby battling other bands of Orcs but continued running, hoping that no Spiders would suddenly drop down and block his way. How could he have left his weapon? Crude Orc arrows zipped past him as he ran, ducking behind random trees and taking sharp turns, leaping over the fallen trees in order to lose the Orcs. He heard shouting in the distance, recognizing the voices as Glorfindel and Thranduil's. He slowed to a stop, tilting his head in order to listen. They were clearly in trouble. Breaking the neck of an Orc that had decided to attack him, Aragorn took hold of its blade and bolted in the direction where the Elven Lords were. He cut down many Orcs that crossed his path, having to use more force because the Orc blade wasn't as sharp as mortal and Elvish blades. He reached the area Glorfindel and Thranduil were in and found that they were surrounded by Orcs and spiders.

"This is why you should not have gone off on your own, Glorfindel!" Thranduil shouted over the battle.

"Would you rather I leave Estel to fend for himself?" Glorfindel shot back. "You saw for yourself that he had no weapon! And he is injured!"

"No, I would not have wanted you to abandon Estel! What I am saying is that you should have waited for reinforcements rather than charging off on your own!" Thranduil growled, decapitating an unlucky Orc and slaying a Spider on his left.

"I have been through worse!"

"Would you like for me to call for another Balrog?"

Glorfindel shot him a glare.

"That can be arranged, you know."

"I would say something but it would only distract you from the battle." Glorfindel snarled as he took his irritation out on the Orcs. Thranduil smirked in reply. Aragorn was about to go help when he sensed something coming up behind him. He turned to find himself face to face with a tall, and large, spider. Jerking back, Aragorn swung the Orc blade wildly, cutting off two its legs. The spider screeched and lunged, tackling him to the ground. Aragorn recovered quickly and slammed his blade up, the blade going straight through the spider's head. He rolled out from beneath it as it collapsed and attacked the other Orcs, his familiar battle cry catching the attention of the Elf-Lords.

"Estel!" Glorfindel sounded relieved to see him, urging Asfaloth to get as close to the man as he could.

"Your right, Glorfindel!" Aragorn shouted the warning and the Golden Elf ducked as one of the spiders lunged at him. He sliced its stomach, staining Asfaloth's white coat with blood. Asfaloth reared and kicked another spider, trampling it beneath his hooves.

"Get out of here, Estel!" Glorfindel called and Aragorn reluctantly nodded, knowing he was pretty much at a disadvantage on the ground. But he could not leave them.

"Estel!" Thranduil's cried out a warning and Aragorn looked to see a spider charging at him. He spun out of the way then leaped onto its back, throwing the Orc mounted on it off then going to finish the spider when his Orc blade was suddenly knocked out of his hand. He watched as it spun out of his grasp and onto the ground, looking to find it had been another Orc that had disarmed him.

"Estel! Jump off the spider!" Glorfindel kicked Asfaloth's side and Aragorn looked ahead to find a rather daunting cliff waiting for them. The spider was running towards it! Thranduil speedily ordered his Elk to go to the man and his Elk used its antlers to knock all the Orcs out of its way as it went for Estel. Aragorn made to jump but realized it was too late. "Sweet Elbereth, no!"

"Estel!" Thranduil and Glorfindel watched as the spider tumbled over the cliff side, Estel along with it. Thranduil leaped off his Elk and rushed to the cliff, peering down to see Estel tumbling violently down its side. He made to jump and Glorfindel incredulously shouted,

"What are you doing?!"

Thranduil didn't bother to answer as he dropped himself off the ledge and began sliding down towards the ground far below.

"Son of an Orc!" Glorfindel slew the last Orc, watching as the rest fled before sprinting over to see if Estel and Thranduil were alright, his worry rising when he couldn't see either. "Thranduil! Estel!" He shouted, but received no reply. Then Thranduil came to view, still skidding down the muddy slope. The Elvenking appeared confused as he searched the area around him. "Thranduil! How is Estel?"

Thranduil looked up at Glorfindel.

"He's gone, Glorfindel!"

"What?!"

"He's gone." Thranduil murmured, gazing down at the spot he knew Estel had fallen. He had watched the man with his own eyes tumble and crash into the exact same spot he was standing. "He disappeared."

"Impossible..."

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Aragorn grunted as he continued to roll violently down the slope, crashing through bushes and hitting every rock in his path. Finally, he crashed into the unforgiving, cold, ground, where he lay, breathless. Once he was able to breath, Aragorn opened his eyes and was confused when he saw the night sky above him. Wasn't it just morning? And there were no trees surrounding him. He sat up, raising a hand to cradle his aching head, looking around. He was definitely not in Mirkwood anymore. The land was far greener, and clearly healthier. The man shakily stood, stretching his arm and rolling his left shoulder before walking down the path he was on. Where was he? How did he get there?

"Perhaps I am unconscious." He suggested to himself, but the pain he felt told him otherwise. "No...I was most certainly in Mirkwood with Thranduil and Glorfindel." He whispered aloud as he climbed a rather steep hill overlooking a very familiar looking town in front of him. He blinked. "I'm in Bree?"

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

"What do you mean 'He disappeared'?!" Elrond demanded to know, giving Thranduil and Glorfindel one of his most famous glares, Legolas, Lasgalen, and the twins watching from nearby.

"Exactly what it means, Elrond." Thranduil growled, sheathing his sword in frustration. "I went after him but he vanished into thin air."

"He vanished?" Elrond couldn't believe a word they were saying.

"Must I repeat everything I say?" Thranduil scowled. "Yes, Elrond! He vanished! As in, he. Is. No. Longer. Here." He punctuated each word. "Tell me you at least understand that."

Elrond threw him a dark look but the Elvenking only brushed it off. Glorfindel rolled his eyes at their childish antics.

"I just cannot believe this. You are telling me that Estel fell down a hill then suddenly disappeared."

"That is what we have been trying to explain to you for the past-"

"That is enough." Glorfindel interrupted before an argument could occur. "We have seen stranger things during our lives but never once have I seen nor heard anything like this. Estel is gone. Wherever he has vanished off to, I know not."

"We must find him!" Elrohir said and the Golden Elf nodded.

"I do not know how that will be possible, seeing as there is no trail to follow and we have no idea how he vanished. But I have a strong impression that..." Glorfindel trailed off, tapping his chin as he thought to himself.

"What do you think, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked him.

"I need to think for a moment."

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Seated in the farthest corner of the Prancing Pony, Aragorn watched everyone and everything from underneath his hood. He was confused and lost. The Prancing Pony was different from what he remembered. Where was Barliman Butterbur? He didn't recognize any of the Hobbits, the tables were set up differently, the food was prepared differently... Something just struck Aragorn as odd here. He had decided to revert back to his name 'Strider' just to be safe. No one even recognized that name, which sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. He sighed as another waitress came by to check on him.

"My lady, would you be so kind as to tell me the date today?" he politely asked her. The waitress nodded and flashed him a friendly smile. Hobbits...

"It is February 24th, 2900, sir." She replied and Aragorn blinked in shock before shaking himself from his daze and nodding to the woman.

"2900...31 years before I was born? Impossible." He whispered to himself, leaning back against his seat.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

After staying for a week, Aragorn discovered it was no lie. He was indeed in the year 2900. But how was that possible? He could not have traveled back in time. Especially in a time where he was not even alive! He suddenly felt even more lost. He had no family he could go to now. He most definitely could not go to the Rangers. He was on his own. Utterly alone.

"That means my Father is the Chieftain of the Dunedain!" He realized as he thought of the Rangers. That made him feel excited but nervous at the same time. Excited that he could probably meet his father as he had always wished, but nervous because he would raise suspicions. Also, his Father would be no older than twenty-seven and he was forty-eight. That would be odd. He still could not wrap his head around all of this. Everything had changed. Or...was changed from what he was used to. Even the landscape was different! He had studied numerous different maps to familiarize himself to the different terrain, read up on some recent happenings, listened to the people as they spoke and picked up on a few different figures of speech before realizing that he had no money to buy food or weapons. He needed to find some work...A place where people accepted Rangers. He frowned, casting aside his Ranger cloak and changing into his travelling tunic he used to go riding with Legolas and the others. He wrapped his cloak and Ranger clothing in a bundle and placed it beneath his bed in the Prancing Pony, heading out to find some type of job.

The new bartender, at least, new to Aragorn, happily allowed for him to care for the horses in the stable and told him he would give him free food should he do so, and to guard the gate during the night. Aragorn agreed to these terms. Now, he only needed a way to earn money to buy some weapons to defend himself with should he ever have need to. That evening, Aragorn went to check on the horses in the stables, feeding them and talking to them in Elvish, feeling comfortable with the animals. The horses immediately took a liking to him, nickering and bumping their noses against him, some even nipping at his clothing as he passed. Aragorn chuckled and smiled, patting their necks fondly before filling their water troughs and ensuring they had enough hay to last them the night.

He plopped down into the corner of one stall, gazing out the window. His shoulders slumped as he thought of Elrond and the twins, as well as Thranduil and his family. He missed Legolas's companionship, Nordawyth's bluntness, and Halbarad. He had nowhere to go now. He could not go to Mirkwood, seeing as the Thranduil in this time was wary of strangers in his land and not as accepting of the Dunedain as he was in his time. He dared not go to Rivendell, vowing to put as much distance between him and Rivendell as he could. Lothlorien, he was not sure. The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, he knew, would allow him to stay with them but he could not burden them. The Lady Galadriel would also discover who he truly was and where he came from, and that could be troublesome. It was still an odd concept for him to grasp and accept. He was still very confused, trying to solve this puzzle. How was he sent back to the past? And why? What use was he here?

Commotion coming from outside drew Aragorn out from the stables to find there was a band of men causing trouble with the peaceful townfolk of Bree. He sighed, placing a hand on the sword he had borrowed from Barliman's father and approaching the men.

"Gentlemen," He called out softly, catching their attention. "Leave the townfolk in peace. They have no quarrel with you."

"And just who might you be?" One of the men, the leader, demanded to know, amused that someone would actually stand up against him.

"I am known as Strider in these lands." He introduced himself calmly, studying the man and his companions closely. Clearly thieves. "It is my duty to guard this city during the night."

"Your duty?" The leader laughed. "Why, you're just a lad! What could you possibly do?"

Aragorn frowned at the statement. 'Just a lad'? "It would be wise of you not to underestimate my abilities, good sir. In fact, it would be the last thing you would ever want to do. Now leave this town or I will force you to." Enough with the niceties, Aragorn decided. Men like these had to be told directly what to do and if they did not cooperate, Aragorn learned to use force when necessary.

"Ha! You hear that? This young man believes he stands a chance against me!" The leader scoffed, critically looking over Aragorn.

"You don't want to fight them, lad," An elder Hobbit said to Aragorn. "They are strong and dangerous men. They will cut you down as they did the others."

The other town folk somberly nodded. Aragorn now knew the reason why not many people asked to have the night watch.

"Better listen to them, boy." The leader told him and Aragorn bristled from being called 'boy.' He was forty-eight! Far older than this man! He most certainly was no longer a 'boy' as they liked to call him.

"I will not allow you to terrorize these people. They have done nothing to you. If I must fight you, I will."

"Hmph, he ain't going to cooperate. Very well then, we will just have to teach him a lesson." The leader unsheathed his sword. The Bree folk gasped and backed away, watching with wide eyes filled with anticipation as the other six men did the same. Aragorn calmly placed his hand on the hilt of his borrowed blade, watching them closely. "You are going to regret having challe-" The Leader was never given a chance to finish when Aragorn attacked, slamming his elbow into the man's chin, causing him to stagger back and kicking his stomach. He spun and instantly disarmed the other two who were caught off guard. The four others lunged from all sides but Aragorn was too quick for them, having been trained by Elves ever since he was young. He jumped out of harm's way and effortlessly swung his blade as though it were a part of him, performing a lethal dance where all the steps were precise and on point. He never once missed, parrying every blow given to him and deflecting others, striking when the men least expected him to. The men, realizing he was no ordinary 'boy', turned vicious, wildly swinging their sword in order to break through Aragorn's defenses. Aragorn had already calculated many of their moves and easily sidestepped them, knocking a few off balance and whacking them with the hilt of his blade, nicking the others who dared come close.

The leader staggered back after a powerful blow Aragorn landed on his jaw and wiped the blood dripping from the side of his mouth. His eyes were dark and furious as he glowered down at him. Aragorn hadn't even broken into sweat and he was not panting, as though this battle was merely child's play for him. The men were in heaps on the ground, groaning and moaning in pain as they rocked back and forth, cradling their injured limbs. Only the leader was left.

"Who are you?" The Leader demanded to know, finally discovering that Aragorn was definitely not someone to mess with.

"I am Strider." Aragorn replied, spinning his sword in his hand. "A Ranger." he added lowly so only the leader would hear, giving him a daring look. The Leader's eyes widened a fraction. Rangers, he knew well, were a dangerous folk who roamed the wild. It was said that to challenge one would mean automatically sealing your fate. "Now, I will tell you again, leave this town and do not return. For if you do, I will have no choice but to kill you." Aragorn threatened, pointing the end of his blade at the man's throat. The man scowled. He had lost. To a mere boy! The humiliation was more than he could bear. Turning, he stalked away from the Ranger, his men limping after him and as soon as they crossed through the gate, Aragorn closed and locked them, assigning himself as gatekeeper for the night. He hadn't realized there had been a gathering crowd until cheers filled the air and the people rushed towards him, many thanking him, others complimenting him, and several of them in at what they had just witnessed.

"You have driven the Black Clan from our home!" One exclaimed.

"Our savior!" another cheered. Aragorn did not know how to respond to this, not being used to earning so much attention. He was accustomed to the people shirking away whenever he would come by wearing his Ranger garbs, so he did the only thing that came to mind. Smiled, dipped his chin in acknowledgement, and thanked the people. It was not long before Aragorn was finally left alone. He finished his shift and then retired for the night, not quite looking forward for the next day to come.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

The next day, Aragorn managed to find himself a temporary job. It was more running errands for a mysterious man who normally came to the Prancing Pony during the evenings. The man had overheard of Aragorn's victory against the Black Clan and had asked Aragorn if he would like to work for him. Aragorn had agreed before asking the man what he would do. The man told Aragorn that he would be in charge of hunting down criminals and bringing them to justice. Aragorn, having not expected for the job to be anything like this, decided he might as well. For many weeks, and several months, Aragorn tracked criminals, captured them, and then took them to whatever land they came from, leaving them for the people to decide their fate. He only returned to Bree to tell the man he had completed the task and then receive another mission. During the first couple of months, Aragorn was wary of the man. There was something about him Aragorn did not like. Something that warned Aragorn of danger. He continued his work, however, earning a decent wage and using the money to buy himself a new blade, new clothing, a bow, arrows, and other supplies he would need. He also paid the bartender for his room and for his travels.

Then one day, everything changed. One night, when he went to inform the man that he had completed his task of tracking down a serial killer, he found the man seated in the furthest corner of the room. Aragorn still did not know his name or what he looked like but calmly strode over to him.

"I have completed my task." He informed the man in a low tone. The man nodded curtly.

"Good. I have a new mission for you." He gestured for Aragorn to take a seat. Aragorn did, warily watching the man and noticing, in the corner of his eye, three others who were watching them closely. The three wore dark cloaks, their hoods pulled up to hide their faces, swords strapped to their sides. They were discreetly watching them, but Aragorn had been trained to notice every little detail and could sense their eyes upon them. "There is a rather dangerous man on the loose. He is, not quite altogether... Many realms want him dead, but no one has ever been able to locate him and those who do, end up being found dead. I want you to find him..." A simple enough task. "And kill him."

Aragorn snapped his head up. Kill him?

"You have two weeks." The man said before Aragorn could object and left, leaving Aragorn stunned as he watched the man vanish into the darkness of the night.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

 ** _Yea! Another chapter done and over with! Well there you have it. Aragorn is now back in the past! So, what'll happen next? Will Aragorn go through with his mission and murder the man everyone wants dead, or will he abandon the task? And who were those mysterious men watching him in the Prancing Pony?_**


	7. The Mission

_**I'm back! And here is the next chapter!**_

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Aragorn silently rode atop his steed he had purchased from a Horse Lord in Rohan, thinking deeply about his new task. He was to murder a man, who was supposedly too dangerous to have alive, then return after his task was done. How was he to know if this man was truly as dangerous as his client claimed? What if the man was actually innocent? For months, Aragorn harbored suspicions regarding this mysterious client of his. But he could do nothing about it until he learned more about him. He stopped his horse when he noticed a trail of hoof prints. He dismounted his steed and crouched down to study them. There were lighter prints beside the hoof ones, telling him that a man had been here. He placed his hand on the hilt of his blade and followed the tracks, telling his horse to wait for him. Without making a sound, Aragorn ran beside the tracks, wondering if this was the dangerous man he was looking for. His client had left him a note that described the man and gave him some information that was useful, such as the man's weaknesses, and so forth. He ran through the list he had been given and decided he was ready to face this man.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

"Halbarad!" The young Ranger turned to find his Chieftain and the Chieftain's son approaching him.

"Chieftain!" Halbarad greeted the man, bowing slightly.

"Halbarad, my boy," The Chieftain smiled and clasped his shoulder. "There is no need for formalities. You are my daughter's son, family." Halbarad gave a weak smile. He had just recently turned twenty and passed the Trials, which meant he was now an actual Ranger instead of a trainee. Of course, he had been trained by two of the best Rangers, his Uncle, Arathorn II, and his grandfather, Arador. His mother had been proud, though at the same time, she had been worried about letting him loose with the Rangers. Arathorn and Arador spent many days convincing her that he would be safe and that they would watch him, and after a while, she calmed and allowed Halbarad to join them. "Now, I have a mission for you."

"A mission, Daeradar?" Halbarad repeated, surprised. Three days in of being a Ranger and he was already being sent off on a mission.

"Yes." Arador grinned at his grandson's expression and even Arathorn cracked an amused smile. "You see," His smile faded as he grew serious. "There have been some mysterious happenings occurring near Trollshaws and the villagers nearby have asked us to look into it. They believe it is some sort of magic and dare not step foot outside of their villages. I doubt it is magic and would like for you to investigate and find out exactly what it is the villagers fear."

"Of course, Daeradar." Halbarad nodded, a little excited and a little nervous. But if his grandfather believed he could do it, he would.

"Thank-you, Halbarad. It would be wise for you to leave at nightfall." Arador suggested, looking up at the darkening sky. "Trollshaws is but a day away from where we are camped," He gestured to the campsite as he continued. "But you only have four days before you must return. Understood?"

"Yes, Daeradar." Halbarad replied and Arador nodded.

"Very well. Go and get ready, Halbarad. Come to my tent once you are packed." With that, Arador turned and left, leaving Arathorn and Halbarad behind. Halbarad allowed a small frown to grace his lips as he thought of his mission. He had very little to go on. What if the villagers were just paranoid and convinced something was happening in Trollshaws? Or if there was something happening, how was he to discover what it was? If it truly was magic, was it truly wise for him to be the one to investigate?

"Come now, Halbarad. Best not keep him waiting." Arathorn kindly said and Halbarad followed his uncle to his tent. When he entered, the two were surprised to find someone waiting for them. A beautiful woman with short, dark brown hair, sparkling blue-grey eyes, and soft features wearing black Ranger garbs and black boots. When they came in, the woman stood and faced them.

"Nana!" Halbarad exclaimed with welcome surprise and the woman smiled as she went over and embraced him.

"My son! I heard all about your mission and came to see you off." She told him, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes before turning to Arathorn.

"Muinthel-nin. When did you arrive?" Arathorn asked as they hugged one another. Even though his sister was about ten years older than him, she was a couple inches shorter and acted as though she were the youngest. But she was strong and wise at the same time. Someone everyone learned not to underestimate.

"Just now." She replied as Halbarad began to pack his bag. "Ada sent me a message saying he was going to send Halbarad on his first mission and I had to come."

"How is everyone?" Arathorn asked his sister, handing Halbarad his Ranger cloak and sword. Halbarad softly thanked him and strapped it onto his belt, rolling up his blanket and attaching it to his small pack.

"Everyone is doing well. We still have not heard from Aspyn. Thalion and Ariya miss him greatly." She chuckled a little, shaking her head. Halbarad perked up and looked at his mother.

"Thalion and Ariya?"

"Yes, those insufferable children." The woman sighed. "They wanted me to tell you that they missed you, Halbarad, and Ariya says you had better not get into any trouble or she will come after you herself."

Halbarad shook his head with a smile, eyes twinkling as he listened to his mother tell him about his siblings.

"Thalion is now ten and Ariya recently turned sixteen. Have you any idea how much trouble she has been getting into?"

"She takes after you, Aramina." Arathorn smirked when the woman glared at him.

"I did not get into trouble!" The two shot her looks of disbelief. "... _That_ much." She corrected. "Anyways, are you ready, Halbarad?"

"Yes, Nana." Halbarad nodded, standing and flinging his pack over his shoulder. Aramina gazed at him for a moment, a distant look in her eyes before turning and opening the tent flap.

"Well, let us go then."

Arathorn and Halbarad walked beside her, heading for Arador's tent.

"Ada, we are here." Arathorn and Aramina chimed once they entered with Halbarad. Arador glanced up from his cot where he had several parchments spread out over the sheets

"Ah, Arathorn, Halbarad, and Aramina." He greeted, looking back down at the papers before jerking his head up again to see the three smirking at him. "Aramina?!"

"Ada!" Aramina mimicked his tone as Arador abruptly stood and crossed the distance between them, pulling his daughter into his arms.

"When did you arrive?" He asked once he pulled away, hands on her shoulders.

"A few moments ago. I came to see Halbarad off." She answered and Arador looked to the young man.

"You are ready, Halbarad?"

"Yes, Daeradar." He shifted his pack as he spoke.

"Good. I had Rendeth prepare your horse and take this," Arador handed him an Elvish dagger and at Halbarad's inquisitive glance, explained, "For emergencies."

"Hannon le." Halbarad thanked him as the four left and walked to where the horses were being kept. Rendeth, a Ranger only two years older than Halbarad, saw them coming and immediately led a black stallion over to them.

"Here you are, Halbarad!" Rendeth brightly said as he passed the reins over to the young man. "A good horse you have. Did not give me any trouble!"

"Thank you for preparing him, Rendeth." Halbarad thanked the man.

"Lady Aramina!" Rendeth greeted the woman, who smiled.

"Young Rendeth. I remember when you were just a child!" Aramina laughed as Rendeth reddened. "Quite the imagination you had! But you always brightened everyone's day. I see you have not changed at all."

"Nay." Arador agreed with his daughter. "Rendeth is still an energetic young man. But he is one of the best we have."

"I shall take my leave then, Chieftain." Rendeth bowed and left, leaving the four alone. Halbarad patted his steed's neck then attached his pack to the saddle.

"This cannot be the horse I think it is." Aramina frowned while Arathorn and Arador cast amused glances at the woman. Halbarad looked up in confusion, his horse neighing as though saying, 'Oh, I am definitely who you think I am,' in reply. "You never got rid of this beast!?"

"Beast?" Halbarad glanced up at his horse, who proudly raised her head and stomped the ground.

"We tried, Aramina. Believe me, we tried, but she refused to leave us be." Arador told her and Aramina glared at the horse.

"That horse...is evil."

"Everyone knows that to be true, dear sister, but then Halbarad came along." Arathorn said, recalling the day clearly in his mind.

"That horse took a liking to him and refused to let Halbarad out of her sights." Arador laughed as Halbarad smiled. "She followed him everywhere he went after that one day."

"What happened?" Aramina wanted to know.

"Halbarad went out riding with her one day."

"You let him ride her?!" Aramina turned suddenly at Arathorn and Arador, who raised their hands in defense.

"He asked to! Halbarad took her from the stables and we found him in the field after she had bucked him off." Arador's eyes twinkled. "Halbarad gave her a good lecture, refusing to give her any treats unless she did as he asked. Ever since then, the two have been inseparable."

"Hmph." Aramina crossed her arms, giving the horse a look before pointing her finger at it. "You had better take care of my son, _beast._ If anything happens to him, you will be the first to go." The horse snorted as Halbarad mounted.

"I had better leave now." Halbarad spoke aloud as Anor started to disappear behind the mountains. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I can reach Trollshaws."

"A good idea but remember to rest sometime tonight." Arador said.

"And do be careful, Halbarad." Aramina looked up at him, worried. Halbarad reached down and clasped her hand with his, giving her a comforting smile. He was happy to have been able to see her once again after three years and it was difficult having to leave her after just spending a couple moments together.

"I will be safe, Nana. Spirit will watch over me." He promised her. Aramina reluctantly let go and stepped back.

"When you return, the three of you are coming to the village." She firmly stated, not allowing them to object, giving Arador a look that clearly told him that they had no choice. "Halbarad has been away from home for three years, and many of the Rangers have not seen their families for a long time either. It would do them some good to come down and spend some time with them. Just a couple of days."

Arathorn went over to Halbarad while Arador and Aramina conversed with one another.

"I suggest you check on the villagers first and gather information from them before you go to Trollshaws, that way you know exactly what you are looking for." He whispered to his nephew. Halbarad grinned, thankful for the tip his uncle had given him. He frowned, nervous of letting them down. He did not want to fail this mission, his first one.

"I will."

"No need to be nervous. Best of luck, Halbarad." Arathorn backed away then whispered something in Spirit's ears. Spirit abruptly reared, forcing Halbarad to lean forward and grip the reins as she bolted in the direction of the forest.

"Arathorn!" Halbarad shouted, musical laughter filling the air as he vanished into the darkness.

"Arathorn!" Aramina smacked his arm but Arathorn smiled widely at his sister. Arador shook his head. "Why in Arda's name did you do that for?"

"He was nervous, Aramina. I was trying to get him to lighten up."

"By scaring him half to death, you half-wit!"

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Halbarad sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time as he rode atop Spirit. He had visited one of the villages as Arathorn had suggested but received no answer to any of his questions. The villagers had been frightened and refused to tell him anything. Which was very unhelpful. How was he to find out exactly what was going on if the cursed villagers wouldn't give him any information? How was he to know what he was looking for? Luckily, it was mid-morning of the first day, which meant he had about three days before he had to return back to the encampment. Three days before he, Arador, and Arathorn as well as the Rangers would be able to return home and visit their families. He would see little Thalion and Ariya and possibly his father, Aspyn. He looked up to find another village in the distance and rode through the gates. The village was performing its daily routine of the people rushing to and fro to the markets, the children playing in the streets, but there was fear in their eyes. He could see it. They were afraid.

"Hail, traveler!" A man nearest him called out as Halbarad dismounted, handing his horse over to a stable-boy and paying him to watch Spirit. "What brings you to our humble village?"

"I come for answers." Halbarad directly answered, and the man tilted his head in question.

"I am the Head Elder of this village. I will try to answer your questions as best I can," He said to the young Ranger. "Come." Turning, the man walked away, Halbarad following close behind. They reached a rather large home and entered, the Elder lead him into a room with a desk inside. Books lined all of the shelves scattered about the room, windows with their curtains drawn, and a few rugs here and there. Halbarad took a seat while the Elder sat himself behind the desk. "Now, what answers do you seek?"

"I am a Ranger of the North." Halbarad introduced himself first and the Elder looked surprised. "We were informed of...strange happenings taking place within Trollshaws."

"Ah, yes." The Elder nodded, realization dawning over his aged features. "But, are you not rather...young to be sent on this...this," The Elder waved his hand about the air, trying to find the right word to use. Halbarad suppressed a sigh. He should have expected to be asked such a question. It irked him when people did.

"I am one of the Dunedain. I could be older or even younger than you think." He replied and the Elder silently accepted the answer.

"I suppose so. I do apologize if I offended you."

"No, no." Halbarad shook his head. "Now, I would like to ask what it is the villagers have seen or even heard in Trollshaws." The Elder frowned, clasping his hands together in a way that reminded Halbarad of Lord Elrond, only the Elf Lord was more intimidating than this man.

"I am afraid I cannot tell you much." He admitted and Halbarad resisted the urge to groan, keeping his expression impassive. "You see, our hunters normally hunt within Trollshaws, but recently, there has been a decrease in game. At first, we believed it to be connected to the severe winter that passed last year, but then our own hunters began disappearing."

"Your hunters?"

"Aye." The Elder nodded. "My own son was one of those who vanished." A flicker of grief passed through his eyes. "The few who returned spoke of a strange magic covering the forest and of creatures that prowled the land, viciously attacking those who trespass into their territory. Many mysteriously passed a few days after returning from their hunt, which leads us to believe there is indeed something taking place within that accursed land."

"Is there anything more that you can tell me?" Halbarad inquired. The Elder thought deeply.

"There are some, I overheard, that spoke of a man who lived in the forest."

"A man?"

"Yes. They believe him to be some sort of wizard." The Elder added. "A dark wizard with powers equal to that of the Istari themselves."

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

The next night found Halbarad walking beside his steed, mulling over everything that he had learned. Apparently, there was a strange magic coating the forest, men and animals were mysteriously disappearing, the hunters who survived would die a few days later or become severely ill, and there was a rumored to be dark Wizard who ruled over the forest. To Halbarad, this was all ridiculous. A bunch of rubbish. A tale woven by some merchant and had spread throughout the land to frighten the villagers. At least, that was what Halbarad believed.

"A dark wizard with powers equal to the Istari." He scoffed beneath his breath, looking to Spirit. "Can you believe any of this, Spirit?" He rhetorically asked his loyal horse, who snorted in reply, shaking her mane. "Me neither. I have been wandering through Trollshaws for over a day and nothing has happened to me. I have heard nothing, seen nothing, nor do I sense any 'strange magic' covering this forest." Halbarad then paused, noting that something was amiss. "In fact, I sense nothing at all." This was odd for the Ranger. His Elvish senses were normally so in tune that he could sense animals at time or even nature itself. But now that he thought about it, Halbarad did not sense anything. He closed his eyes and concentrated, but there was nothing. He gripped Spirit's reins tightly, forcing himself to continue. The sooner he could leave, the better. He hated this feeling. The nagging sense that something was utterly wrong. "I have one more day." He whispered to himself. "One more day."

Later that night, Halbarad had settled down but dared not sleep. He could not bring himself to do so, which made him irritated with himself.

"They were only rumors." he continuously told himself. "There must be a logical explanation for these disappearances...A group of bandits, perhaps? Orcs, most likely." Spirit seemed to snicker at Halbarad's failed attempts to reassure himself. Halbarad scowled at her. "I do not know why I am affected by these tales, Spirit! They should not bother me but they do!"

Spirit was silent, as though she, too, were feeling unnerved by this whole thing. Halbarad sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair, grey eyes scanning their surroundings, as though expecting for something to come lunging out at him.

Still nothing.

Wait...

Halbarad snapped his head to the right. He had heard something, of that he was sure. Slowly standing, Halbarad reached for his blade. Spirit was wise enough not to make a sound, standing perfectly still as she watched him. She could sense his growing sense of nervousness and alertness. It made her feel uneasy. She wanted to break these reins and run to him, to protect him from whatever he heard coming nearer, and nearer. Halbarad released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and stealthily moved forward, thankful that he hadn't lit a fire. That would have attracted unwanted attention. With every step he took, the warning nagging at the back of his mind grew, informing Halbarad that there was indeed something there. Should he wait for it to come? Should he run?

Torn, Halbarad stood stock still, glancing back at Spirit then forward, waiting for whatever was approaching to make its appearance. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and Halbarad froze. There was a shadow, a tall shadow, right next to him. It was growing as it stepped into the moonlight behind him. His hand reached for the sword he had so foolishly forgotten to draw, but he was unable to unsheathe it when a dark, and low, menacing voice shattered the tense silence that hung over him.

"Do not move."

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

 _ **There you have it! Another chapter all done!  
Oooh, so Halbarad's run into a little trouble, huh? Stay tuned for the next chapter! Which should be up tomorrow...Or later tonight. **_


	8. Thorongil

_**Yea! Another Chapter done and ready for you to read! Enjoy!**_

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

 _Torn, Halbarad stood stock still, glancing back at Spirit then forward, waiting for whatever was approaching to make its appearance. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and Halbarad froze. There was a shadow, a tall shadow, right next to him. It was growing as it stepped into the moonlight behind him. His hand reached for the sword he had so foolishly forgotten to draw, but he was unable to unsheathe it when a dark, and low, menacing voice shattered the tense silence that hung over him._

 _"Do not move."_

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Halbarad tensed, hand gripping the hilt of his sword, but he wisely did not draw it. He could tell from the shadow that whoever was behind him, had a bow and arrow ready to fire at him should he move. Spirit neighed, tugging at the reins tied around the tree, violently stomping on the ground as she struggled to escape. Her Master was in danger and there was nothing she could do! Halbarad waited to see what the man would do when he heard the sound of the bowstring being released. He started when the arrow flew right over his shoulder and pierced itself into the flesh of another man hidden in the shadows of the forest. The shadow quickly notched another and aimed it at Halbarad.

"Who are you and state your reason for coming to Trollshaws."

"I am a Ranger of the North." Halbarad answered, and noticed the Shadow falter slightly at this. "I come to investigate the abnormal happenings occurring in Trollshaws and the disappearances of the Village Hunters."

"A Ranger, you say?" The shadow kept his bow at the ready. "What is your name?"

"Halbarad, son of Aspyn and Aramina of the Dunedain." Another slight movement from the Shadow.

"And the name of your Chieftain?"

Here, Halbarad hesitated. That was not information he was to willingly give, but for some reason, he felt this stranger was of no danger to him. How odd, seeing as the stranger was the one threatening to shoot him with an arrow.

"Arador, son of Aradorn."

The Shadow then lowered his bow. "I see. Forgive me, Halbarad, son of Aspyn. I mistook you for another man I am searching for."

Halbarad turned to see the man descending the hill towards him. He wore a hood that hid his face and a black cloak that matched his dark clothing, allowing him to blend in with the night. Halbarad then turned to see the fallen man the other had killed. The cloaked man knelt down and turned the corpse over.

"One of the Wild Men." He heard him murmur. Another sound attracted their attention and the Stranger snapped up, turning and firing another arrow. A Wild Man tumbled from a nearby tree and Halbarad took this as a sign to draw his blade. The Stranger did the same, stepping closer to Halbarad. "We are surrounded."

"How many?" Halbarad found himself asking.

"Twenty, perhaps less."

Halbarad nodded, raising his blade as four men charged them. The two acted at once, swinging their swords and killing two instantly, immediately taking on the other two as several more appeared and attacked. Halbarad and the mysterious man fought as one, backs pressed against the other. When Halbarad moved to attack, the other defended him, and when the other went on offensive, Halbarad instinctively moved in to protect him. The Wild Men stood no chance against the duo, who skillfully cut them down one by one. As Halbarad danced with his blade, the stranger called out warnings and Halbarad, in turn, would watch the other's back. They separated in order to cover more ground and push the Wild Men back. A large and strong Wild Man emerged from the shadows and charged Halbarad. Halbarad ducked when the Wild Man swung his mace, the spikes narrowly missing cutting through his back. The Wild Man swung again, forcing Halbarad to take a step back to avoid being struck. His foot caught against one of the corpses and his balance became unsteady. To compensate for the imbalance, Halbarad threw himself to the side, rolling on the ground and slicing at the back of the Wild Man's knee. The Wild Man gave an inhuman-like roar as he whipped around to crush Halbarad with his mace.

Halbarad, luckily, leaped out of the way but barely had time to deflect the next blow. He was forced to raise his blade to black the heavy and oversized mace, but the impact sent his sword spinning through the air and into the ground far away. Cursing inwardly, Halbarad jumped back out of harm's way and sprinted to get his blade. The Wild Man would have none of it, however, slamming his mace down into the ground right before the young Ranger. Halbarad immediately forced himself to a stop and backed away, closely watching his opponent. What was he to do?

A memory from before he had left the Rangers came to mind at that moment.

* * *

 _"You are ready, Halbarad?" Arador asked his grandson._

 _"Yes, Daeradar." Halbarad shifted his pack as he spoke._

 _"Good. I had Rendeth prepare your horse and take this," Arador handed him an Elvish dagger and at Halbarad's inquisitive glance, explained, "For emergencies."_

 _"Hannon le." Halbarad thanked him as the four left and walked to where the horses were being kept._

* * *

Halbarad couldn't help but smile and reminded himself to thank his grandfather when he returned to the Rangers. He quickly tugged the dagger out of his boot and held it in his hand, the blade end pointing away from him. The Wild Man seemed to smirk at this, amused that Halbarad would challenge him with a mere dagger for protection. A grunt drew Halbarad's attention to the stranger from before. The hooded man had been nicked in the side but that did not stop him. Halbarad's moment of distraction was all the Wild Man needed. Lunging, he swung the mace at him.

 _"Halbarad!"_ The stranger shouted, and Halbarad jerked, evading the Wild Man's killer blow and striking at once. He flung his arm forward, piercing the Wild Man's side with it. The Wild Man bellowed as he staggered back, raising feral eyes to glare at Halbarad as he stood, towering over the young Ranger's smaller form. Halbarad was not the least bit intimidated, having faced Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin once when he was younger. The Balrog Slayer, though he was gentle and kind, had an aura of power that enveloped him that made Halbarad nervous around him. Even Lord Erestor was more frightening than this man! When the Wild Man went to attack, Halbarad struck, catching him off guard. He pivoted when the Wild Man thrust his mace to the side and swiped, cutting the Wild Man across the chest. Angered, the Wild Man threw a barrage of blows in a wild attempt to hit Halbarad, but the young Ranger merely danced away each and every time, sneaking through his defenses and stabbing him once again. Only this time, it was his shoulder. Halbarad then stooped low and cut deeply into his leg, sending the Wild Man crashing into the ground, where the last thing he saw was Halbarad's dagger flying down at him, then darkness.

Finished with the Leader of the Wild Men, Halbarad turned to see the hooded man just finishing off the rest of the men. He watched in awe as the man skillfully evaded every blow coming from all directions and effectively cut them down as though they were nothing more than practice dummies from the training grounds. He landed every strike on-point them immediately swiveled over to attack another recovering man. To Halbarad, it was like watching his Uncle and Grandfather duel one another during a practice session. It was fierce yet his movements were flowing. Violet but controlled. It was like watching an Elf battle his enemy only this man was human.

Halbarad's eyes narrowed when he noted the light steps the man took as he fought. This was no Elf, yet he was no ordinary human either. His eyes widened a fraction when he realized this man was actually one of the Dunedain. But how was that possible? He had been the only one who was sent on this mission and Arador was not to send out a small search party until after the morrow. Who was this man then and what was he doing within Trollshaws?

 _"Forgive me, Halbarad, son of Aspyn. I mistook you for another man I am searching for."_

The words rang in his mind as he recalled the words the stranger had said earlier. He was searching for a man? Whatever for? Clearly, he was hunting him down, hence the weapons he carried and from the way he had sneaked up on Halbarad. A criminal perhaps? When the hooded stranger slew the last Wild Man, Halbarad went to approach him when the twang of a bowstring caught his attention. Excruciating pain exploded in Halbarad's shoulder as an arrow slammed into it, knocking him back into the ground, his dagger flying out of his hand when he fell. A battle cry rang out and Halbarad faintly heard the sound of metal tearing into flesh. The sound of rushing feet fast approaching him drew Halbarad out of his daze as he looked to find himself gazing into familiar grey orbs hidden by the shadow of the stranger's hood. His pain-induced mind failed to make the connection as to why he recognized them as Halbarad's eyes closed and he grit his teeth against the pain. The hooded man knelt down beside him, gripping his good shoulder as he carefully reached for the arrow. He was talking, but Halbarad could hardly make out what he was saying to him.

"Hal...ad...Alba...d...!" The stranger was calling out to him and Halbarad hissed in pain, reaching for the arrow embedded in his shoulder. The stranger caught his hand, pushing it away before placing his hand over Halbarad's forehead and chanting in Sindarin to ease the pain. Halbarad felt some of the pain melt away and looked to find the stranger inspecting his wound. Sensing Halbarad's eyes on him, the stranger faced him. Faintly, Halbarad could see the outline of the man's face. He appeared friendly enough but there was a dangerous feel about him. "Can you hear me, Halbarad?" The man asked and Halbarad weakly nodded. "Good. I have to pull the arrow out. It will hurt, but I need you to be as still as you can." The man gripped the arrow and looked to Halbarad as though asking for permission.

"Just do it!" Halbarad hissed and gave a small cry of pain as the arrow was expertly pulled out of his shoulder, the stranger immediately staunching the bleeding and searching his pack for the necessary items he needed.

Halbarad suddenly felt something was wrong. Why was he becoming so numb? Why was his vision darkening all of a sudden? It was definitely not from blood loss, that he knew. The man, as if sensing something was amiss, raised the cloth he had placed over the wound and cursed in Elvish. Not a good sign.

"I need you to stay awake."

"Poison?" Halbarad inquired, and the man nodded. "Of course..." He muttered, voice growing weaker every time he spoke. He winced when the man started putting salve over the wound and began cleaning it. His eyelids were growing heavier, the numbness spreading quickly.

"Do not sleep, Halbarad. Stay awake." The man ordered. Halbarad would have growled at the man if he could have. "Tell me of your home."

A distraction.

"I have...two siblings..." Halbarad managed to say, ignoring the prodding at his shoulder. Pain spiked from the sensation but Halbarad brushed it off. "A Father...and mother..."

"Have you seen them recently?"

"My...mother." Halbarad answered. "She came...to see...me...off." He clenched his teeth as sharp pain shot through his shoulder.

"Goheno-nin." The man whispered as he placed his hands over the arrow wound. "The poison is much stronger than I thought it to be."

He was growing weaker by the second.

"I do not...think I...will be...able to...stay...awake...much...longer..." Halbarad painfully admitted, wanting very much to give in to the welcoming darkness in order to avoid the burning feeling that was coursing through his body. The man appeared worried at this, spotting Spirit nearby. He suddenly vanished from sight then returned with Spirit right next to him.

"We must find shelter for the night. Then I will be able to-" But Halbarad was no longer listening to him. The buzzing sound in his ears was growing then Halbarad knew no more.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn felt a spark of panic when Halbarad suddenly went unconscious, nearly cursing aloud as his hand flew to check for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he found it but was worried to find it was weak. He had to hurry. Speaking to the horse in Elvish, Aragorn told the horse he would need her help. The horse, concerned for her Master, seemed to understand the urgency and knelt to the ground, making it easier for Aragorn to carefully hoist Halbarad up and place him onto the saddle before mounting himself. Spirit raised herself off the ground and shot off in the direction of the Ranger's encampment. The closer they could get to the Rangers, the better. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Aragorn truly did curse aloud this time. The last thing he would need was for Halbarad to become deathly ill. He was still shocked to have run into Halbarad, and to see him as young as he was. The Halbarad he knew was nearing one hundred years of age and was his closest friend among the Rangers. Casting his eyes about, Aragorn was able to find a cave nearby and turned Spirit towards it. As though reading his mind, Spirit entered the cave and knelt down, allowing Aragorn to dismount with ease and take Halbarad off. Gently setting the unconscious man on the ground, Aragorn took the blanket strapped to the saddle and his cloak and spread them out on the ground, lifting Halbarad back up and onto the make-shift bed.

He turned to see that it was now pouring outside and was thankful to have found shelter this close by. Spirit neighed softly and placed herself in front of Aragorn and Halbarad, shielding them from the cold wind.

"Hannon-le, mellon-nin." Aragorn thanked the horse, who neighed in reply, lowering her head and gently nudging Halbarad's head. "Worry not, my friend. I will take care of him." Detaching his pack from his belt, Aragorn placed it beside him and fumbled around it, searching for the athelas he had wisely decided to gather earlier. Trollshaws was known to have more athelas growing in the forest than any other land. Whether it was by luck that Aragorn had run into Halbarad in Trollshaws, or whether it was by chance, he knew not. But he was thankful he had. Who knew what would have become of the Ranger had Aragorn not found him? Aragorn sat back on his hunches and chewed the Athelas before moving to kneel beside Halbarad, placing the Athelas against his shoulder wound. Halbarad hissed and unconsciously began to move away, but Aragorn held him still, whispering comforting words in Sindarin to calm him. Halbarad stilled and Aragorn took another look at the wound. He grimaced with sympathy when he found that it was turning black, a definite sign that he had been poisoned. Soon, the athelas would perform its magic and begin clearing the poison.

Ripping off a part of his cloak, Aragorn used it as a make-shift bandage and carefully, but firmly, wrapped it around Halbarad's shoulder. Once finished, Aragorn covered the unconscious man with his cloak and stood. He patted Spirit's neck and left to find some water, knowing Halbarad would need some when he awoke.

After some time, Aragorn returned to find Halbarad was still unconscious with no sign of waking anytime soon. He took a seat near the entrance of the cave, sword resting against him as he took watch throughout the night.

* * *

The next day, Halbarad had become delirious and was in great pain. Aragorn worked to soothe him but nothing would work. Perspiration dripped from Halbarad's forehead as he fell ill, causing Aragorn to worry greatly. He continuously dabbed the young man's forehead with another torn piece of cloth soaked with water and checked the wound. The poison was strong and slowly killing Halbarad if Aragorn did nothing about it. Frowning worriedly, Aragorn searched his pouch for more athelas.

He found none.

Looking inside his pouch, Aragorn found that the only athelas he had gather he had already used. Setting his pouch down, Aragorn sprinted from the cave and went to search for the plant. He scanned the ground nearest the trees then out in the open, warily stepping out into the open fields and looking for the Athelas. Because the Athelas was a rare plant, it would be difficult to find- _if_ he found any at all. He dropped to the ground and brushed aside all of the fallen leaves. There had to be Athelas somewhere and he would find it! In the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw white and immediately rushed over.

Athelas.

Ripping it from the ground, Aragorn saw that he had found a whole patch of Athelas. He took them all, knowing he would probably need them later. He sprinted back to the cave, where Halbarad was crying out and sweating profusely, his complexion growing pale as his resolve to fight the poison began to weaken. Hurriedly, Aragorn undid the bandage and cursed when he found the wound swollen and black. He had underestimated the poison and if he did nothing about it soon, Halbarad would be lost. Chewing a greater amount of Athelas, Aragorn placed it on the wound then covered it with his hands, closing his eyes as he chanted a healing prayer in Sindarin, asking the Valar to help him heal his cousin. Uncovering the wound, Aragorn sighed. This would be harder than he had originally thought.

A groan drew his attention to the wounded man to find him stirring. Leaning over, Aragorn held his breath and waited as Halbarad fought to awaken.

"Come now, Halbarad..." Aragorn whispered. If Halbarad woke, that would mean he would survive and that he was healing, which would greatly relieve Aragorn. He waited as grey eyes glazed over with pain weakly fluttered open and locked gazes with light blue orbs. "Halbarad?" Aragorn softly called when the man's eyes drifted closed and his head rolled over. Fear sparked through Aragorn as he watched Halbarad grow limp. "Halbarad!"

The man groaned again, gripping Aragorn's hand that rested on his uninjured shoulder, forcing his eyes to open once again, his young features wrinkled with the pain he was feeling. A relieved but concerned smile grew on Aragorn's lips as he relaxed, knowing Halbarad would be fine. "Thank the Valar! I was beginning to worry there."

"W...Who...are..." Halbarad coughed, wincing from the pain it caused his shoulder as his body shook.

"Shh, rest now, Halbarad." Aragorn checked the man's temperature and was thankful to find that it was dropping back to normal. He wet the cloth once again and placed it onto Halbarad's brow, Halbarad watching him. Leaning back, Aragorn tilted his head in question when he noticed Halbarad was still looking at him. Then he realized he no longer had a hood covering his face and tensed. Halbarad's grey eyes narrowed as he took in his savior's appearance. He looked no older than himself, shoulder length chocolate brown hair, and grey-blue eyes with some stubble on his face. He looked very familiar to the wounded man. Halbarad studied him a little longer, trying to figure out why this stranger was familiar to him and who it was he resembled so greatly.

"Who are...you?" Halbarad managed to ask as he slowly started to slip back into unconsciousness. The stranger leaned over, taking the cloth from his forehead, wet it, then put it back on. Just before he went unconscious, Halbarad heard the man answer,

"Thorongil."

And the darkness overtook him.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Aramina bolted into a sitting position, clutching her shoulder at it suddenly began to ache. Her eyes were wide with worry as she flew out of the bed and rushed out of her room, startling Ariya and Thalion in the process.

"Nana?" Ariya worriedly called after her, the two siblings running after their mother as she bolted from the house and to the stable. "Nana, where are you going?" Ariya called, holding Thalion when he pressed himself closer to her, sensing his mother's fear and worry. Aramina exited the stable stop her horse and looked to her children.

"Ariya, watch your little brother. I don't know when I will be back..." The woman hurriedly spoke, trying to remain calm for her children. Ariya bit her lip, seeming to catch onto what her mother's urgency was.

"It's Halbarad, isn't it?" Ariya stated more than questioned. Her mother's silence was all she needed for an answer. "Nana, what-" Scared, she tightened her grip on Thalion.

"I do not know, Ariya." Aramina interrupted her. "But I intend to find out. Take your brother and go to Llina. Now, go!" She spurred her horse onwards, Ariya and Talion watched as the horse and their Naneth vanished into the distance.

* * *

 _ **-Ranger Encampment-**_

Arador frowned as he stood at the far end of the camp, feet shoulder length apart, shoulders straight, head held high and hands clasped behind his back. It had been four days. Four days since Halbarad had left but never returned. It was the fifth day now, and Arador was uncertain as to whether he should look for Halbarad or wait few hours before going. The sun still had not risen, but Arador could see it peeking just about the mountains. The sound of a frantically approaching horse caught his attention and he looked to see Arathorn heading out to greet the rider. The rider nearly bowled him over and would have had Arathorn not thrown himself out of the hrose's way. The rider, hooded and cloaked, dropped down and Arathorn gripped their arms when they rushed to him, frantically speaking to him. A troubled look crossed Arathorn's features as he jerked his head in Arador's direction. The cloaked being immediately sprinted towards him, Arathorn close behind.

"Ada!" The rider exclaimed once they saw him and Arador nearly stepped back in surprise when his daughter flung herself at him.

"Aramina?" He wrapped his arms around her before she pulled away to look at him, her eyes wide with worry.

"Ada! We must find Halbarad!"

"Halbarad?" Arador repeated.

"He is hurt, Ada! I felt his pain!" Aramina gasped, out of breath while clutching her shoulder. "I had a vision last night where I saw Halbarad surrounded by Wild Men. He was outnumbered and alone, Ada!"

The image of her son being struck by an arrow and his body crumpling to the ground came to Aramina's mind.

Arador was troubled at this and looked to Arathorn. Arathorn, understanding what it was he was asking, left to fetch their horses.

"Aramina, calm yourself. Halbarad is strong." Arador tried to assure his distraught daughter. Aramina was a strong woman and was holding herself together well, though her eyes betrayed her emotions.

"I know, but Ada, what if..." She trailed off, firmly shaking her head. "I knew...I felt something would happen but I didn't want to keep Halbarad from going. It was his first mission."

"Do not blame yourself, Aramina. You could not have known." Arador ran his fingers through her hair in a soothing manner, knowing his daughter was bashing herself for not listening to her 'mother's intuition,' as she called it. Arador could not help but feel worried himself. Halbarad was skilled and had excelled his Ranger training, but he had never fought in a battle before. Sure, he had dueled with Arador and Arathorn, but these were Wild Men Aramina claimed he fought. And if he was injured...

Arathorn arrived before Arador could finish the thought, two horses obediently followed behind him. Aramina's horse came at once and the woman immediately mounted, waiting as patiently as she could for Arador and Arathorn to do the same.

"I informed Caladin that we were leaving. He agreed to watch over the Rangers during our absence." Arathorn told his Father, who nodded and they were off, Aramina in the lead.

* * *

 ** _-Trollshaws-_**

Aragorn checked on Halbarad and was grateful to find the man was far better than before. The wound appeared to be slowly healing and his pale complexion was turning a healthy color. He continued wetting the torn cloth on Halbarad's forehead as a precaution and changed the ripped bandage, putting more athelas onto the wound. Halbarad was resting peacefully now. No more delusions and he was no longer trembling. He was well on his way to recovering. Aragorn leaned back against Spirit, who had taken a liking to him. The Rangers would most likely come searching for Halbarad. If they did, Aragorn dared not show himself to them. As much as he wanted t meet his Father, and even his grandfather, it was too big a risk.

He was still a threat, Aragorn knew. Even though he had somehow been knocked back to the past, he was still the enemy's weapon. Exhaling deeply, Aragorn stood and went to find some more water. When he reached the nearby lake, Aragorn dipped his hands into the water and splashed it onto his face in order to wake himself up. He had drained himself from staying up three nights, healing Halbarad, and from all the running around. The water was freezing. Much colder than he had expected but it succeeded in slapping the drowsiness he felt away. When the ripples smoothed out, Aragorn glanced down at his reflection...

And froze.

A forty-eight year old Dunedain man did not greet Aragorn as he stared into the water. No, instead, a younger version of himself was gazing back at him. Aragorn realized, with shock, that he looked the same as he did when he was nineteen!

' _Because you are...'_ A voice whispered in the back of his mind but before he could think over this, the distant sound of a horse neighing told him that there was company coming. Silently, Aragorn went to see who it was.

Hiding behind a bush, he peered through to see three riders fast approaching. Definitely Rangers from the looks of them. The three wore Ranger garb with their heads covered by their hoods and cloaks that covered the backs of their horses.

"Aramina, slow down, Iell-nin." The man on the right quietly called to the woman in the front. Aragorn blinked.

 _Aramina?_ That was Halbarad's mother's name. His aunt.

"Ada, this is his trail. We are getting closer." Aramina continued on, studying Spirit's tracks from where she sat upon her horse.

A _da?!_ Aragorn stared. That was Arador, son of Aradorn, his grandfather? Then the man on the left-Aragorn realized-had to be Arathorn II, his Father. Suddenly remembering that Halbarad was stil in the cave and his things were there, Aragorn shook himself from his daze and slipped away, still not over the fact that he had just seen Arador and Arathorn. He reached the cave and went over to wake Halbarad.

"Halbarad," He whispered, gently shaking the wounded man's good shoulder. Halbarad did not stir. "Halbarad!"

Halbarad groggily woke to find Thorongil shaking him. He coughed and felt Thorongil place his water pouch against his lips and drank. Once through, he gave Thorongil a tired, but inquisitive, look, silently asking what he needed.

"They are here." Was all Thorongil said, leaving Halbarad confused when he began packing up. Who was there? The Wild Men? Thorongil reappeared above him. "I am going to help you onto Spirit."

Halbarad made to sit up, still a bit dazed and drowsy, exhausted from having fought the poison, but could feel Thorongil aiding him. Thorongil wrapped an arm securely around his back and lifted him up. The world suddenly tipped and spun that Halbarad nearly collapsed had it not been for Thorongil's hold on him.

"Easy, Halbarad, easy." Thorongil slowly helped him to Spirit, Halbarad closing his eyes as the nausea grew. Thorongil stopped, worriedly watching him. "Will you be alright?"

Halbarad made to nod when the nausea grew stronger. He shook his head then fell, emptying the contents of his stomach into the grass nearby. Thorongil fell beside him, soothingly rubbing his back as Halbarad continued to gag. Once he was done, Halbarad slumped against him, too tired to move and feeling somewhat safe and comforted around Thorongil.

"Good. The poison is being cleared from your body." He heard Thorongil say. "Can you move or do you need a moment?" Halbarad settled for nodding, feeling a little better. "We will go slow." Standing once again, Halbarad leaned heavily against Thorongil. Spirit edged closer and Thorongil helped Halbarad to get onto her back. Slumping over, Halbarad weakly rested himself against Spirit's neck, having no energy to sit up. Thorongil took the reins as Spirit slowly, careful not to jerk him, and lead her to the entrance of the cave "No sudden movements and do not try to use a bow. It will strain your shoulder. No strenuous exercises. It should be healed well enough within two weeks." Thorongil told him, sounding very much like the healer Arathorn was when caring for Halbarad. Halbarad looked to him, barely moving his head.

"Ha...nnon...le." He whispered and Thorongil nodded.

"Go, my friend, and may the Valar watch over you." Thorongil said something to Spirit and she set off, walking away from the cave and to the field nearby.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Aramina rode ahead of Arador and Arathorn, worried for her son's safety and welfare. A few of the villagers they had passed were kind enough to point them in the direction they had seen a young Ranger go and Aramina hoped to find him soon. Closing her eyes, Aramina banished every negative thought in her mind, trying to clear her head. She reopened them and looked up in time to see a stallion emerge from the shadows of the forest, a motionless figure resting on its back.

" _Halbarad_!" Aramina cried as she dropped down from her mount and rushed over just as Halbarad slipped. Arador and Arathorn were instantly at her side. Aramina cradled her son's head in her lap, cupping his cheek and asking him to wake up. Arathorn checked for a pulse before noticing the bulge around Halbarad's shoulder, hidden beneath his cloak. Lifting the cloak, he was surprised to find a make-shift bandage wrapped around it. Undoing the knot, he checked the wound.

"It is healing." He murmured aloud, brow furrowing in confusion. From what he could tell, there was no way Halbarad would have been able to bandage his shoulder himself. "Someone has already cleaned and treated the wound." Arador and Aramina turned to face him. "We must get him to camp."

* * *

Arador watched as Arathorn checked Halbarad's shoulder wound. Aramina sat by the bedside clasping her son's hand with her own, still worried Finally, Arathorn pulled away, signalling that he was through.

"Well?" Arador was the first to speak, Aramina watching her brother intently, waiting for the news.

"He was struck by a poisoned arrow." Arathorn informed them and Aramina closed her eyes. So her vision was true. "But the poison has been drained." She perked up at this.

"Drained?" She repeated, pressing her brother to continue.

"Yes. It appears someone had come to Halbarad's rescue and cared for him after he was wounded. They cleared the poison, stitched the wound, and even ensured that he did not grow feverish." Arathorn looked up at them.

"He will be well then?" Aramina dared to ask as Arador went to stand beside his son.

"Whoever did this," Arathorn gestured to the shoulder wound. "Was skilled and saved Halbarad's life."

"Thank the Valar!" Aramina breathed, tackling the two into a relieved hug, the men returning it.

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn smiled softly as he watched Aramina, Arathorn, and Arador crowd around Halbarad, each very concerned. He could tell they were overjoyed to find him but immensely worried at the same time. He watched Arathorn closely, noting the way the man checked Halbarad's wound and then reporting his findings. So his father was a Healer as Lord Elrond had said. He watched as Arador placed Halbarad onto another horse, Arathorn swinging up behind him and making sure he was secure before riding off. He then turned to leave.

He still had that man to find.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

 _ **Alrighty! Chapter down and many more to go! Next chapter will be a little more exciting...I hope.**_


	9. Assassin!

_**Another chapter up and ready to be read!**_

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

TWO WEEKS LATER...

Aragorn tiredly rode through the gates of Bree, thankful to be back. It had been rather difficult to locate the man his client wanted dead. The man, Aragorn found, was indeed completely out of his mind. The Ranger still shuddered when the man's maniacal laughter echoed in his mind, his eyes wide and wild, and the way he had acted...Almost as though he were possessed by some dark spirit. Now, Aragorn had seen many strange and unnatural things throughout his long life, but nothing as chilling as that. Of course, Aragorn, being the noble man he was, did not kill the man. No. He would never do such a thing unless he truly had to. He had captured him and returned him to Rohan to be dealt with by the King and his Court. As expected, the man was given the death sentence and Aragorn left soon after. His horse went straight to the stables, stopping only to allow him to dismount before following the stable boy into his stall. Aragorn payed the boy, ruffling his short hair before leaving to inform his client that the mission was a success.

His client...

Aragorn still felt wary of the man. He still had not, after two years, found out who the man was. He would appear at the Prancing Pony every time Aragorn would return from a mission, assign him a new one, and then leave abruptly and without a trace. There was something about him that unsettled Aragorn but he could not pinpoint what it was. The fact that he knew nothing of his client or the fact that his client seemed to know everything there was to know about Aragorn. Entering the Prancing Pony, Aragorn decided to keep his hood on, feeling there was something amiss.

"Ah, Strider!" Barliman's father called when he entered. "Welcome back! Haven't seen you for a while. Everyone started thinking you left for good."

"I am afraid I will be staying for a while longer." Aragorn replied, noticing the three men from before seated nearby and immediately placed some coins onto the counter. Barliman's father gave him a confused look. "I apologize for any damage." Was all Aragorn said as he walked to the far corner of the room, the only one covered by shadow, and placed a letter onto the table, sliding it over to where his client sat, within the darkness. "It is done."

The mysterious man leaned forward slightly, careful not to expose himself in the light, and took the letter. Aragorn watched the three men in the corner of his eye, keeping his hood low. They had been watching him ever since he had accepted the first mission his client had given him.

"Good. He was too dangerous to have let live." Then, adding underneath his breath, the man murmured, "And that concludes my task. They have all been eliminated, but has the threat been diminished?"

Aragorn pretended not to have heard this, but this interested him. What was his client's task and what threat was he trying to abolish? Suddenly, the man leaned forward, still hidden within the shadows as he gripped Aragorn's arm.

"Those men have been watching you closely, _Strider,_ " He said his name in a way that told Aragorn that his client knew Aragorn was hiding his true name. It was obvious that 'Strider' was not his real name, but his client was clearly hinting that he knew more than Aragorn had thought. Who was this man? Something shimmering caught Aragorn's eye and he looked to see that around the man's neck, was a pendant. A beautifully made pendant that was evidently of Elven-make. His eyes narrowed. Could it be possible that his client was no man, but an Elf? It would explain the elusive nature that 'man' had, the way he managed to vanish without a trace, and his perceptive behavior. "Do not drop your guard, no matter what." The 'man' continued, lowly, pulling Aragorn closer. "Whatever you do, always be aware of your surroundings. Trust no one. One wrong move and everything will spiral out of control." Leaning back, the 'man' stood, still looking down at Aragorn. "If anything should happen, I will come. You have only to call." With that, he left, leaving Aragorn once again to stare at him in confusion. After a few moments, Aragorn slowly started to stand, watching as the three men made to move at the same time.

He fingered the hilt of his sword, wondering what he should do. If he were to leave, the men would most likely follow but Aragorn dared not confront them within the inn unless he had no choice. He could see there were four other men rising from their seat and making their way towards him.

He waited, pretending not have noticed them and when they came close enough...

Aragorn sprung into action, tackling one of the men and flinging him off balance. The man stumbled and crashed into his partner while Aragorn whipped around to deal with the threat coming up from behind him. He blocked the taller man's blows then caught his wrist, twisting it and sending the man flying over his shoulder, breaking a table when he crashed into it. The Prancing Pony silenced, watching in awe, surprise, and somewhat concerned as the fight raged on. Aragorn zipped here and there, almost Elven-like, and struck the men with ease. Years with the Rangers had taught Aragorn much and now, everything had become second nature to him. Especially fighting. He rarely grew tired unless it had been a long and tiresome battle. Bar-fights and regular scuffles with bandits and orcs here and were of no trouble for him. He dodged a dagger one of the men attacked him with and spun around, kicking the man aside before engaging in a hand-to-hand combat with the largest man of the group.

Barliman's father only shook his head, not in the least bit worried. "Challenging Strider...What has gotten into these men now-a-days?"

"Must have a death wish." A nearby Hobbit agreed with the bartender, watching the fight with growing interest.

Aragorn grunted when the larger man landed a hit to his stomach, almost knocking his breath from him, but Aragorn managed to grab the man's arm, spun beneath his arm and trapped it against the man's back, kicking his knee and sending him crashing to the ground. Aragorn had no time, however, to finish off his opponent when another man flung himself at him. Aragorn rolled out of the way, leaping up at once and sending a well-aimed fist crashing into the man's jaw. The smaller man went spinning into a chair nearby and fell over, much to Aragorn's amusement. These men fought as though they were drunks! Whoever taught them did a terrible job! Aragorn faced his new opponent, taking in the way the man leaned heavily on his front foot while in his fighting stance. This, Aragorn used to his advantage. He ducked beneath the man's wild hit and kicked him in the chest. The man staggered back and Aragorn was upon him at once. Elbowing an incoming attacker, Aragorn focused on the one he was fighting. These men were off balance anytime they took their stance, all four leaning heavily on their front foot. If Aragorn were to merely push them back, they would immediately lose their balance and fall over. But they were strong, he would give them that.

Only not strong enough.

The man with the dagger raised the blade up and sent it flying down upon Aragorn, who was kneeling on the ground after having tackled another man. Aragorn crossed his arms over the other and raised them above him, the man's wrist becoming trapped in between his hands, the blade inches away from Aragorn's face. Aragorn immediately wrapped his fingers around the man's wrist, pivoted on his knee, grabbed hold of the man's tunic with one hand, keeping his arm on his shoulder, and stood, flipping the man into another table with ease. One of the larger men suddenly caught him in a headlock, their arms wrapped tightly around Aragorn's throat, crushing his windpipe. Aragorn merely jutted his chin down against his chest, forcing the man's hold to loosen slightly, then turned his head to the side, raising a hand up beneath the man's chin and placing the other behind the man's knee, Aragorn flung him backwards, freeing himself from the headlock.

Hobbits and men alike cheered at this, chanting 'Strider' as Aragorn finished off the three other men, knocking one out with a bottle of beer he had borrowed from a nearby drunk, then ramming another into a pillar, then casting one out a window. Shards of glass exploded in the air and fell to the ground with a musical 'clink'. There was silence as Aragorn stood in center of three men sprawled out on the ground, groaning from pain and covering their wounds. Neither dared get up to fight him.

Then the inn was in chaos as the occupants cheered and shouted, some reluctantly throwing a pouch full of money to another from having lost whatever bet they had made. Aragorn was not even sweating nor was he breathing heavily from the tense fight. His heart pounded against his chest but that was from the exhilaration of the fight. He turned and left the Inn, tossing another coin to the bartender and apologizing for the mess as he left for the stables. That was enough excitement for him this night. When he entered the stables, Aragorn immediately sought out his loyal steed, feeding him a nearby apple and patting his neck. His horse nudged him and kicked at the door of his stall, clearly wanting out and Aragorn chuckled when it bit his tunic, ordering him to let him out.

"Daro, mellon-nin!" Aragorn laughed, bumping his horse on the nose. "I do have need of a calming ride through the forest." He made to unhook the latch on the stall door when he saw three shadows standing at the entrance of the stable. Aragorn nearly sighed as he turned to see who it was, only to find it was the three men who had been watching him from before. Now that he could see them clearly, he could tell that they were Rangers. He immediately prepared himself. What would Rangers want with him? It could not be for anything good.

"So this is where you have been the whole time." The leader of the men spoke, his voice low and deep, but soothing in a way. Aragorn tilted his head in question, not quite understanding what he meant.

"Hiding in plain sight. An effective strategy to use." the other, shorter than the leader but still quite tall, added.

"What would I need to hide from?" Aragorn asked them, focusing his attention on his horse but still watching them carefully. "I have committed no crime."

"You have committed plenty of crimes, _assassin_."

Aragorn snapped his head in their direction, incredulously staring at the leader.

 _Assassin?!_

* * *

 ** _It's short but another one will be posted soon!_**


	10. Rangers and Memories

_**Another Chapter! Hurrah!**_

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

 _"Hiding in plain sight. An effective strategy to use." the other, shorter than the leader but still quite tall, added._

 _"What would I need to hide from?" Aragorn asked them, focusing his attention on his horse but still watching them carefully. "I have committed no crime."_

 _"You have committed plenty of crimes, assassin."_

 _Aragorn snapped his head in their direction, incredulously staring at the leader._

 _Assassin?!_

* * *

 ** _-Granted-_**

Aragorn was most certainly _not_ an assassin. "Assassin?" He nearly scoffed. "I am no assassin."

"You say that after you have murdered four men. We have been tracking you for many months only to find you here." The leader appeared to be scowling.

"Who is your client?" the other asked, the third remaining quiet during the exchange.

"My client, I know not-"

"So you admit to being the assassin?"

"I only capture criminals who have escaped or fled their countries and return them before the King and the Court for them to decide their fate. I do not partake of any bloodshed of any kind." Aragorn told them, rubbing his horse's nose. "Unless I must. That is the only thing my client has asked of me to do."

"You lie." The second's voice hardened slightly. Aragorn suppressed a sigh. This day was just not his day. He had traveled for hours, fought a few Orc, returned to Bree hoping to retire for the night, ended up being involved in a fight, and now this. The rustle of cloth warned him that they were not alone in the stable. He frowned, sensing there was danger nearby but he was unable to see it.

"We were asked to locate an assassin who has been terrorizing nearby villages in Bree. He has also been spotted in Rohan, Trollshaws, and Gondor." The leader took a step forward, pinning Aragorn with a steely gaze from beneath his hood. "Sound familiar?"

"I do admit to having passed through those lands but the assassin you are searching for could very well be any other man." Aragorn told them, warily eyeing the three. A fight with drunk men and sober men, Orcs, Goblins, and Wargs, he could handle. But three, obviously skilled, Rangers? Being brought back to the past had its consequences, even though Aragorn never asked for it to happen.

Well, perhaps in a way he did, having wished that he could have known his Father. But now, his skills from when he was forty-eight, the skills he worked so hard to perfect, were dulled. He was supposedly twenty years of age(Almost twenty-one), his strength not as strong as before, his body weaker... He was almost exactly the way he was when he was nineteen. He had, of course, been training every night, pushing himself harder and harder every passing day, trying to build up his endurance and strength, but it would be a while before he would become half of how he was when he was forty-eight. Luckily, his mind was still sharp, his vision far more advanced than was normal, and his hearing was sensitive to nearly every sound.

Taking on these Rangers, should they attack, was something Aragorn was not keen on doing. There was another small sound emitted from nearby and Aragorn now knew they were not alone. There was someone with them. His horse nickered and nudged him, telling him that she sensed danger as well.

"And that man just so happens to be you." The second crossed his arms. "A man of Gondor origin with inhuman stealth, agile like an Elf, and is skilled with weapons. From what we have seen, you fit the description well."

"I believe you have described the four of us altogether." Aragorn countered. "In fact, all Dunedain fit that description."

For a moment, there was silence as the Rangers digested this. Now they knew the man they were cornering was of the Dunedain, and the possibility that he could be the assassin they were searching for unsettled them.

"What you say is true. All but in appearance." The leader finally spoke. "Our informer was quite detailed in his writing."

' _You are trusting a man whom you have not met in person?'_ Aragorn wondered to himself. ' _And all this from a mere missive?'_

 _"_ He is said to be around twenty-five or so years of age, shoulder length brown hair, blue-grey eyes, with the beginnings of a beard. Features more Elven-like than any Dunedain."

Aragorn closed his eyes, smirking lightly. That described three of them. Well, now two since Aragorn was no longer forty-eight. Either way, he was not around twenty-five years of age. Though, he did take after the Elvish side of his family in appearance.

"Lower your hood and prove to us that you are not the man we are searching for." The leader ordered, prepared to attack if necessary. "We were given information that his next victim would be in Bree...and here we find you."

"If you are not careful, you will be next." Aragorn warned before mentally berating himself. _That_ was the worst thing he could say in this situation. The Rangers started, perceiving this as a threat but Aragorn was too quick for them. He had grabbed his dagger and flung it in their direction, startling the three men when it narrowly missed nicking the leader's throat. They turned when the sound of the dagger embedding itself into skin resounded behind them in time to see a hooded and cloaked person fall to the ground. The Ranger turned back around to find Aragorn vanishing through the window and full-out sprinting towards the forest.

" _Rhiach_!" The Leader cursed in Elvish. "We must catch him!"

The three shot off after the man, believing that Aragorn had killed his 'accomplice' as a distraction he had used to escape. The truth was that Aragorn had seen a second man and was now chasing after him. He pushed himself to run faster, cursing inwardly when his nineteen year old body began to grow weary. He pressed on, not daring to slow down one bit. He glanced over his shoulders to find the three Rangers closing in and growled in irritation. They still thought he was an assassin!

' _But of course they do!'_ A voice rumbled in his mind. ' _After what you said, then killing a man right after, and then running off the way you did, of course they would believe you were an assassin!'_

Aragorn chose to ignore the Rangers and kept his eye on the the hooded figure trying to escape. He didn't get any further when Aragorn was suddenly tackled and pinned to the ground.

"I would stay still if I were you." the second tallest warned, pressing a dagger against his throat.

" _Rhiach!_ " Aragorn growled, but he didn't struggle. It would only worsen the situation. "You are letting him escape!"

"You were the one trying to escape, _assassin."_ The Leader crouched down in front of him and Aragorn could see his grey eyes shimmering in the moonlight. Irritation flickered through Aragorn as he sighed heavily.

"I was _chasing_ your _assassin_ ," Aragorn corrected, but they would have none of it. "Who you just allowed to get away."

"There was no other man." the second muttered when the third spoke up.

"He is not lying." They looked to see the third, and smallest of the group, knelt down on the path, his hand brushing against the trail he had found. "There was another."

"His companion, most likely. Now, up. We will bring you back to camp." The leader pulled Aragorn up, the second binding his hands. Aragorn rolled his eyes up to the night sky.

Why did this always happen to him? At least, for once, Legolas wasn't with him.

And this time, Aragorn mused somberly, no one would come to his rescue.

He was alone.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Aragorn walked in the middle of the three Rangers. The leader took the lead, the second gripping his arm in case he tried to escape (Which he would never dream of doing, of course), and the third trailing behind them, deep in thought. He continued glancing at Aragorn, narrowing his eyes before looking away and mumbling to himself. He appeared to be trying to figure something out, though Aragorn had no idea what he had to do with whatever the man was thinking. They had left his hood on, much to Aragorn's surprise, and were silent during the whole trip. Neither questioned him on anything. Soon, they reached the Rangers' make-shift camp and the three lead him into one of the larger tents nearby. Once inside, Aragorn was forced to his knees, the second standing behind him, hands on his shoulders. When Aragorn looked up, he was surprised to find a woman standing before him.

With a pang of sorrow, he recognized her as Aramina, Halbarad's mother. His aunt who had taken care of him when he first joined the Rangers. She had always been there for Aragorn, making sure he was well and resting enough. She was the mother hen of the Rangers, but everyone loved her dearly. When he looked up at her, Aragorn felt a wave of calmness overcome him, as it always did when he was around her. She was most of the Rangers rock. Someone who helped them through hard times and comforted them when she felt the need to. Of course, she never did it publicly, knowing the men had a reputation to live up to, but she would still subtly let them know everything would be alright.

Aramina confusedly looked up at the three Rangers, quirking an eyebrow.

"Ada, what is this?"

Aragorn nearly started when the Leader appeared beside him. _That_ was Arador? Had he truly just been captured by his own Grandfather?

"Our assassin." Arador replied, lowering his hood. Now Aragorn knew that he had indeed been tracked and captured by his Grandfather. The man stood straight before them, a kingly aura enveloping his body, shoulder length dark brown hair, shimmering grey eyes, and the beginnings of a beard. None of the Rangers ever grew a full beard, for whatever reason. He was tall, at least six inches taller than Aragorn himself, and resembled Lord Elrond greatly. Aragorn then felt a pang of fear shoot through him. If they lowered his hood, would they see the resemblance he bore with Arador and Arathorn? If they did, what would they make of it?

Probably brush it aside, Aragorn thought to himself.

"You found him?" Aramina gazed down at Aragorn, a dangerous glint in her eyes which made him feel instantly nervous. He knew how much she disliked rebellious men, criminals, and thieves. She was pretty brutal whenever she ran into one, giving them no mercy nor pity. Not that they deserved it.

"After a long while." Arador nodded, turning to face Aragorn. "Now to see who you truly are..." He strode over and Aragorn instinctively leaned back, only to bump against the second Ranger still holding him. Arador extended his hand and flicked Aragorn's hood back. The hood jerked up then slowly slid back, Aragorn keeping his head held high, Aramina and Arador stepping back in surprise. Blue-grey eyes clashed with grey.

"Why, he's no older than Halbarad!" Aramina exclaimed. "Surely this cannot be the assassin you were searching for?" She faced her Father before glancing back at Aragorn. Arador appeared befuddled as well as he studied the young man kneeling in front of him. This man was definitely not twenty-five. Nor did he appear the least bit dangerous, but Arador would not lower his guard. Anything was possible. The young man had chocolaty brown hair that fell down his shoulders, a little stubble on his young face, and grey eyes flecked with blue. The eyes were what caught Arador's attention. This man was young, but his eyes looked to be aged with the wisdom of many years.

"Tell me," Arador began, watching him carefully, "What is your name?" Aragorn made to answer when the third Ranger shuffled closer to Arador, peering around the tall man at him.

"Thorongil!" He abruptly blurted and Aragorn whipped his head to him.

"Halbarad?"

Arador, Aramina, an the second Ranger, who Aragorn strongly suspected to be Arathorn, looked from Halbarad to Aragorn then back to Halbarad.

"Halbarad, you know this man?" Aradorn asked his grandson, who nodded.

"He is the reason I am still living today." Halbarad informed them. "Had it not been for Thorongil coming to my rescue, I would have been overwhelmed by the Wild Men and slain."

"Arathorn, release him!" Aramina immediately ordered, startling the men who had been listening raptly to Halbarad.

"Muinthel-" Arathorn started to object but Aramina gave him a look.

"Let him go, muindor. He is of no threat to us." She sternly said and Arathorn cut the bonds off Aragorn. Aramina walked over, grasping his hands and pulling him up into a standing position.

"Hannon-le, My Lady." Aragorn politely thanked her, but the woman shook her head, tears in her eyes.

"I cannot thank you enough for saving my son!" She told him before embracing him tightly. "Halbarad told us everything! Had it not been for you, my son would be dead!" A few tears slipped from her eyes as she pulled away.

"Now I must thank, Halbarad." Aragorn said, earning bewildered looks.

"Whatever for?" Halbarad asked. Aragorn looked to him, a slight smile on his lips.

"Had it not been for you, I do not know what my fate would have been. I most certainly would have been unable to convince you that I am not an assassin."

"And for that, I must apologize." Arador spoke up, clasping Aragorn's shoulder firmly. "It appears I must have made a mistake while tracking our assassin."

"Nay, I do not think you did." Aragorn shook his head and Arador tilted his head in question. "The assassin must have followed my trail. It is too much of a coincidence that we happened to have been seen in Rohan, Trollshaws, and Gondor at the same time."

"I must agree, but I still apologize for wrongly apprehending you."

"It was not solely your fault, Ada." Arathorn said. "We should have listened to what Thorongil had to say, but in our haste to capture the assassin, we were not thinking clearly."

That was when everything came crashing down on Aragorn. He was standing here, his Grandfather grasping his shoulder, his Father standing behind him, his aunt and a younger version of Halbarad...

His Grandfather...

His own Father...

His birth Father! Aragorn was actually standing beside his own Father and no one but him knew this. Something that should have been impossible was coming true for Aragorn. He was finally able to meet his Father and possibly get to know him. This made him feel overjoyed and nervous. At the same time, Aragorn was uncertain as to what he should be feeling. His emotions were swirling within him as he thought about this. So many questions he wanted to ask and have answered. So many things he wanted to know.

Then his thoughts darkened and Aragorn remembered the threat he posed on them. He was still a weapon of the enemy. Or...Since he traveled back in time, seeing he had changed back to his younger self, did that mean Aragorn was no longer tainted and himself?

"...On..gil...Tho...il!" A voice broke into his thoughts and Aragorn looked to find Arador and the others looking at him, concerned.

"My Lord?" Aragorn blinked, shaking his head and banishing all the morbid thoughts that continued nagging at him.

"Are you well, Thorongil?" Arathorn inquired, his healer instincts kicking in. Aragorn went to answer but Aramina beat him to it.

"He is clearly exhausted! And famished, I would believe." She grabbed Aragorn's arm and started pulling him out of the tent, the others following close behind, the Rangers giving one another amused looks. "How long has it been since you have had a goodnight's rest and eaten a full meal?"

Aragorn couldn't help but grin at the woman who was pulling him in the direction of the Mess Tent. "A few da..." He trailed off, thinking about the question. "A few months." He was taken aback by this. He hadn't realized how little sleep he had been getting and how little he ate. Aramina appeared horrified by this.

"Oh, Stars above!" She gasped. "That is not okay! _You,_ " She punctuated the word as she forced Aragorn to seat himself at the table they had reached. "Are going to sit here while I fetch you something to eat!" She vanished behind the curtains that separated the kitchen from the dining area. Aragorn blinked while Arador and Halbarad laughed, Arathorn cracking a smile.

"My daughter is quite...How do you say...?" Arador murmured as he searched for the correct word.

"The mother hen?" Halbarad offered and they shared another laugh, Aragorn smiling as he watched them, still not over the fact that this was truly happening. They had suddenly transformed from the serious and dutiful Rangers to kind and gentle men. Many believed Rangers were a mysterious and dangerous folk-which they were- but they were not as cruel as many rumored them to be. They were caring and once you got to know them, as Aragorn had, they were very friendly and accepting. It didn't matter who you were, whether another man, Elf, Dwarf, or some other being, the Rangers never held one higher in regard than the other.

Even though Arador did not know this Thorongil, he felt he could trust him. Anyone could see the kindness and care reflected in those eyes. He had a friendly feel about him but there was something else. Hidden in the depths of those grey orbs, was immense sorrow, pain, and fear, making Arador wonder what the young Thorongil had suffered during his life.

"Tell me, Thorongil, from where do you hail from?" Arador asked, taking a seat across the man, Halbarad and Arathorn standing behind him. Aragorn hesitated. He couldn't say Rivendell, that would raise questions and no one knew him in Rivendell...Yet.

"Gondor." he answered, deciding that was the best answer he could give. Arador nodded at this.

"What brought you here, to Bree? What of your family?"

Aragorn thought about this for a moment. "My Father was killed during an Orc ambush and my Mother faded soon afterwards. I was raised by my Father's uncle before he..." Aragorn trailed off, unsure of what to say. So far, he had spoken the truth. Taking his silence to mean that his uncle had passed, Arador regretted asking the question.

"I am sorry for your loss."

Aragorn dipped his chin in acknowledgement. "I left home because I could no longer stand to be there. It was too painful." To his relief, Aragorn did not truly have to lie. He would only have to remember that he now hails from Gondor and that his whole family is dead. What he was telling them was all true. He could never return to Rivendell because of the pain it would bring. He and Elrond never spoke during his time in Mirkwood, seeing as they never had the time. Well, mostly because Aragorn would avoid the family as much as possible. Thranduil never said anything about it, but Aragorn knew Glorfindel disagreed with what he was doing, though he understood the reason why. Aragorn and Elrond had parted with harsh words the last time he had been in Rivendell, merely two months before he 'vanished.' The twins had been off hunting, Glorfindel and Erestor taking care of some merchants, and Lindir busy preparing another composition. Aragorn could never face the Elf after what he had said. "I wandered the lands, finding work in Rohan and G-" Aragorn quickly caught himself, reminding himself that he had hailed from Gondor and never wanted to return there according to his cover-up story. "Rohan and Bree. That was where I was approached by my client. I had accepted before I even knew what I was to do."

"The client...the man you were with in the Prancing Pony?" Arador asked and Aragorn nodded.

"The very same. He would give me missions which mainly consisted of capturing criminals and returning them to their homeland to be punished for their crimes."

"You are one of the Dunedain." Arathorn suddenly spoke up. "Why did you not come to us?"

Aragorn was silent. How would he answer this?

"I never thought of it." He slowly replied. "My Mother nor my Uncle spoke much about them. I knew very little of the Rangers except from what I had learned from all of the stories I have overheard."

"Hobbits." Arador fondly shook his head. "They do love their tales." He remarked, recalling many moments he had listened to Hobbits tell tales of the Rangers. Men also shared their own stories of the dark and mysterious Rangers who travel the wilderness. The way they would tell them made it sound close to a horror story meant to frighten children at night.

"For two years I worked for him..." Aragorn finished.

"How old are you, son?" Arador asked him.

"Twenty." Aragorn answered softly. Being twenty brought back memories of those days... When he had turned twenty in his time, was the day he learned of his true heritage. He was no longer Estel Elrondion, Elrond's adopted son, but Aragorn, son of Arathorn II. Arador leaned back in his seat, deciding not to press the man in front of him. He narrowed his eyes. He could tell Aragorn was hiding something from him, but what could it be?

"You act very much like a Ranger. It was difficult tracking you and the assassin. You are light on your feet but swift."

"A perfect candidate for a Ranger!" Aramina seemed to materialize right next to Aragorn, nearly causing him to start. She placed the food she had prepared in front of him and a drink. She then gave her Father and brother a stern look. "No more questions." She pointed a finger at them. "He has been through enough."

"Very well." Arador relented, not wishing to anger his daughter, Arathorn remaining silent. "Though, I do have one more." Giving his daughter a reassuring glance when she gave him the death glare, he continued. "Would you like to become a Ranger, Thorongil? You are kin and have no home. I would be willing to take you in as one of us."

Aragorn had to take a moment for himself. This was very unexpected. He had expected their meeting to be a little more difficult and...and...well, he was not exactly sure what he had been expecting. But he was certainly not expecting for it to go as smoothly as this! He was absolutely fine with this, thought. If he were to become a Ranger, he would be able to learn more about his family and get to know his own Father! He leaned back in his seat, Aramina placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You do not have to, Thorongil. Do not feel pressured to if you do not want to."

"Nay," Aragorn shook his head and Aramina's expression fell just a slight bit. In the short time she had gotten to know him, she found she liked him.

"If that is what you wish," Arador began when Aragorn shook his head.

"I meant that I do not feel pressured into becoming a Ranger." He explained, eyes brightening. "I would very much like to become one."

Arador gave him a kind smile. "Then, Thorongil, I welcome you to the Rangers. I am most pleased you will stay." He and Aragorn clasped one another's arms, Aragorn feeling strangely overjoyed. Arathorn gave him a sharp but acknowledging nod and Halbarad clasped his hand firmly.

"How is your wound?" Aragorn found himself asking as he ate. Halbarad shrugged his shoulder.

"It no longer pains me, though it is difficult for me not to use it." Halbarad admitted and Arador smirked.

"Indeed. Halbarad can no longer use his bow until it is fully healed."

Halbarad scowled at his Grandfather, who found this amusing. Halbarad loved archery. He was very skilled with a bow, Aragorn knew. Arathorn's eyes also sparkled with laughter though his expression remained slightly guarded, raising questions in Aragorn's mind. From what he had learned from those who knew Arathorn, mostly his adoptive family, had said he was nearly the same as Aragorn. They had said Arathorn was a very friendly and accepting man who was normally cheerful but serious when he needed to be. He remembered many of the tales the twins would tell him of their adventures with his Father. Of all the fun they had and how troublesome and mischievous Arathorn could be at times. Right now, Aragorn was not seeing any of those descriptions. Arathorn appeared wary and cautious. Though his eyes freely revealed his emotions, if Aragorn looked closely at them, his expression remained mostly impassive, revealing little of what he felt.

Why was this?

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Somewhere within Mirkwood...

"This could be a problem." A cloaked figure murmured as he watched his companion pace back and forth. His companion whirled around, clearly irritated.

" _Could be_ a problem? No, my friend, it _i_ _s_ a problem." He hissed. "The brat disappeared, according to the King, and the King never lies! How could he have disappeared?!" He growled, flinging his arms up in frustration as he continued with his pacing. The cloaked figure leaned back against his seat, rolling his eyes at his uptight friend. "I nearly had him! After two failed attempts, I nearly had him!"

"I told you to send me instead." the seated figure drawled, propping his feet up on the desk and swirling the wine he held in his hand.

"I should have!" The assassin grumbled. "If it hadn't been for that accursed Woodland _sprite-"_ He bit out, referring to the Princess, Nordawyth Thranduiliell. "He would have been dead! She just had to interfere when everything was going just perfectly!"

"What of the fire in the stables?"

"What fire?" The assassin rounded on his friend, who quirked an eyebrow.

"You mean to tell me it was not you who set it?"

"I do not know what you are talking about. What fire?" The assassin demanded to know.

"There was a fire in the stables at the palace. I thought you had set it as a distraction and watched as the youngling ran off with a group of Orcs on his tail."

"Orcs!?" The assassin exclaimed. "Oh, of course there would be Orcs...No, that would not have been me...That means someone else is after him...Did you see what happened afterwards?"

"I watched as the Balrog Slayer and the King himself went after Strider. I followed them in time to see Strider get thrown over a cliff and fall."

"And then?" The assassin pressed. His friend shrugged.

"He was gone." He snapped his fingers. "Like that. The Elvenking was stunned himself and the Balrog Slayer had no idea what to do. They returned to the Palace after thoroughly searching the area. There was no sign of him."

"That is impossible! No one can disappear in thin air!"

"He did."

The assassin glared but did not reply. "I will find him," He darkly muttered, slamming his dagger into the desk. "And I will kill him." His lavender eyes glinted threateningly. Neither noticed the dark shadow just outside the doorway, listening to their conversation intently before turning away and fading into the darkness of the night.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

Thranduil rubbed his forehead in exhaustion, slumping back against his cushioned chaise, his robe splaying beneath him and onto the floor. He had spent days searching for Estel but everyone had come up empty-handed, himself included. Legolas was beside himself with worry, as were everyone else. Elrond had yet to leave his room, and when he did, he was quiet, rarely speaking. No one knew of the harsh quarrel that Elrond and Aragorn had had years previous. Elladan and Elrohir constantly went out, hunting down Orcs and trying to gain information from them, but no one seemed to know anything. Thranduil was starting to consider inviting the insufferable wizard Gandalf, himself, to solve this mystery for them! As tempting as it was, Thranduil wanted to solve this alone. Of course, he would accept his people's and his guest's help, but no one else. It had happened in _his_ land, _his_ kingdom, and _he_ was going to figure it out. So preoccupied in his thoughts was Thranduil that he did not hear the door to his office open until a quiet voice called out,

"Ada?"

Opening one eye, Thranduil looked to find his youngest, Legolas, standing in the doorway. He dared not cross into the room, looking to Thranduil.

"Come in, Ion-nin." Thranduil invited him, his voice tired but still strong. Legolas entered, plopping down in front of Thranduil, back leaning against the chaise. Thranduil made himself comfortable before placing a hand on his son's head. "What is it, little 'Las?" Legolas exhaled deeply, shaking his head.

"I worry for Estel, Ada. Where could he be? Is he hurt? Is he still..." Legolas's voice cracked before he continued. "-here." Thranduil started running his fingers through Legolas's long hair in a soothing manner.

"Estel is still alive and well. It would take more than whatever magic warped him away to beat him down." Thranduil told his son, and he believed what he said. It was impossible for Estel be dead. It was not yet his time. Though, he had most likely already run into trouble. "We will find him...We will find him..."

* * *

Months slowly passed by and there was still no sign of Estel anywhere. Thranduil was ready to rip his hair out in frustration. What had happened to Estel, how, and why? Every inch of his land had been searched, Thranduil even sending Elves to scour Laketown, Dale, and the Misty Mountains! Elrond send patrols out around the border of Rivendell and beyond, sending Elladan and Elrohir to Gondor while Glorfindel rose to Isengard and Rohan. They returned empty-handed. By this time, hope that they would find Estel was fading. The young, and once bright, mortal was nowhere to be found. Elladan and Elrohir spent many days grieving the loss of their little brother, Legolas fearing his closest friend was dead, Nordawyth dimming with every day that passed. By some miracle, Nordawyth had lived, but barely, only to wake and hear of Estel's abrupt disappearance. She had not taken the news well and for many days, Thranduil and her brothers had to coax her out of the shell she had created and open up. Nights were spent comforting one another and days spent hopelessly searching the lands once again in the hopes they had missed some crucial clue.

Nothing.

Thranduil allowed a groan to escape his lips as he dropped his head against the windowsill, eyes drifting close as the beginnings of a headache made itself known to the Elvenking. The wind caressed his tall and lithe form, offering a little comfort.

"Ada?"

Thranduil did not bother to move when his daughter entered the room, watching him with concerned eyes. She walked over to stand beside him, feeling comforted just being around him. Thranduil sighed and pulled his daughter close.

"We will find him...We must find him." Thranduil murmured mostly to himself, gazing out into the distance as Anor began sinking below the horizon. Nordawyth rested her head against his shoulder, praying that her Father was correct and they would find Estel.

"Where could he be, Ada? What if he is no longer of this world?" Nordawyth asked in merely a whisper, the thought numbing her mind as she pondered this possibility. Thranduil firmly shook his head.

"Nay, Estel is still alive. He must be." Whether he was trying to convince himself or his daughter, he knew not. But they were only just words. Whether they were true or whether they were false, he did not know. Legolas seemed to materialize beside them as he came to stand by the window.

"Glorfindel has arrived." Legolas informed Thranduil. Thranduil raised an eyebrow at this.

"Glorfindel? Was he sent by Elrond?" Thranduil asked before noting the expression his son wore. Narrowing his eyes, he asked Legolas what ailed the Balrog Slayer.

"He had left Rivendell, seeking the twins, but was waylaid by Warg Riders and..." Legolas trailed off, worrying Thranduil and Nordawyth.

"And, Legolas?" Thranduil pressed. Legolas looked up at him.

"The Witchking attacked Glorfindel as he was passing Dol Guldur."

Nothing more needed to be said as the Elvenking disappeared through the doorway, his robes fluttering behind him. He rushed down the hallways, uncaring of who saw him, heading for the Healing Ward. Bursting through the doors, Thranduil managed to hold himself with dignity despite his hurry and reached the room Glorfindel had been placed in. He entered to find the Golden Elf, pale but alive, lying on the sickbed, eyes closed as he rested. Thranduil moved closer, taking in every wound that marred Glorfindel's body. He had a few scraped on his face, a few cuts and bruises along his arms, but the worst wounds the Elvenking could see, was the Warg's bite mark on his shoulder, and the stab wound in the side. Stirring slightly, Glorfindel opened his eyes and locked gazes with the Elvenking.

"Thranduil." He managed to say, smiling despite the pain he felt.

"Glorfindel." Thranduil returned, walking closer. "Legolas informed me of what happened."

Glorfindel nodded.

"Aye, he was the one who found me just before I fell from Asfaloth..." Glorfindel nodded, albeit weakly.

"The Witchking?" Thranduil raised his eyes in question.

"He was hiding within the ruins of the fortress." Glorfindel scowled. "He caught me unawares."

"So I see." Thranduil replied, making a point of tapping Glorfindel's shoulder lightly. "With a small band of Warg Riders, if I am not mistaken." Glorfindel bitterly grinned.

"Pure luck the Warg managed to grab me. The Nazgul, on the other hand..." Glorfindel flinched, his hand covering the wound in his side. Thranduil felt concerned.

"It was not poisoned, was it?" Thinking the worst, Thranduil asked, "Did he strike you with a Morgul Shaft?"

"Nay." Glorfindel shook his head, relieving the Elvenking. "I suppose the Valar were protecting me. He only nicked me with his blade."

"Only nicked you?" Thranduil raised a disbelieving brow, pointedly looking at the wound. "Whatever would the twins be doing near Dol Guldur?" The King then asked. Glorfindel's eyes widened as he shot upright in the bed.

"Valar! The Twins! I forgot about the twins!" He made to leave the bed but Thranduil firmly pressed him back down.

"Do not move." He ordered, pointing a warning finger at the Balrog Slayer. Glorfindel gazed up at him, eyes pleading but Thranduil shook his head firmly. "You are going no where, Glorfindel, until you are healed."

"I am well enough!" Glorfindel argued, making to get up once again but Thranduil pushed him back down, a warning glint in his eyes.

"Move again, and I will bind you to this bed." He threatened and Glorfindel stilled, anguished. "Where are the twins, Glorfindel?"

"They were travelling to Dale but for some reason, chose to take the path that took them through Dol Guldur." Glorfindel answered, leaning back against his pillows. "Elrond had a vision about the twins, one that involved them being in grave danger. I came to find them before his vision could come to pass," The Balrog Slayer sulked, mentally berating himself for having failed his Lord. "But it appears that I have failed him." It was one of the worst things Glorfindel feared. He hated disappointing others, especially his Lord and Erestor. Elrond had done so much for him that Glorfindel could only repay him through whatever services were asked of him. Thranduil frowned.

"How long ago was this vision?"

"It has been four days since I left Rivendell."

Thranduil was surprised by this. Glorfindel must have ridden most of the journey without taking any breaks if he had reached Mirkwood within such a short amount of time. But then again, it was the twins who were in danger. Glorfindel loved the twins fiercely, having helped raise them since they were elflings and having trained them in the arts of battle for most of their lives. Glorfindel would do anything for those he cared greatly for, even sacrifice himself should he ever have to. It was something that worried Elrond, Erestor, and even Thranduil himself. They knew the Balrog Slayer would not think twice before throwing himself in harm's way to keep them safe. He was rather protective of the children, including Thranduil's own, but that was for a reason very few knew of. Thranduil lowered his head, grief filling his heart as he thought of his beloved wife. They had been together for nearly three centuries when she was mercilessly taken from him one dark and dreadful day. It had pierced everyone's heart the day Thranduil brokenly pronounced her death, having watched as her broken body tumbled into the freezing river and flow down the waterfall, never to be seen again. He had searched for her body in vain, but the river connected to the Ocean, which meant he would never be able to find it.

Many feared Glorfindel would fade, seeing as it had been his one and only niece, Ecthelion's daughter, who Thranduil had married and who had died such a horrific death. She had become like the daughter he never had when he returned from Valinor to Middle Earth.

How ironic it was that Ecthelion had fallen to his death in his Fountain after having felled three Balrogs and his daughter had fallen into a river after defeating yet another Balrog within the Mountains. Thranduil had never forgiven himself since then. If he hadn't fallen in battle, if he had just pressed himself to continue despite his weakness from his injuries, he would have been able to stop her from...from facing the Balrog alone. The look in her eyes...the expression that marred her beautiful face when she saw Thranduil fall. One Thranduil would never forget. The utter fear and horror etched into her expression as she gave an agonized scream and ran towards him...

Thranduil had tried to stop her, shouting and pleading with her to flee, but she would hear none of it. Valiantly, she fought the Balrog, wielding her father's own blade she had retrieved after the Fall of Gondolin, leaving everyone to watch, horror-struck. Glorfindel and Erestor had fought violently, trying in vain to reach her before it was too late, while Elrond pulled Thranduil out of harm's way. Thranduil had struggled, fought against Elrond's hold, ordering the Lord to release him. Only when the Balrog broke the bridge they were on did Elrond's grip loosen and the two had been sent sliding down to their impending doom, had it not been for Elrond grabbing hold of the robe and grasping Thranduil's wrist. They had dangled helplessly, Celebrian panicking as Galadriel held her back, Celeborn sprinting over to ensure they were safe.

That was when it had happened.

The moment that Thranduil would forever remember.

The Balrog Glorfindel, Celen, and even Erestor were fighting had cornered his wife near the broken edge of the bridge, much to his dismay. Glorfindel had lunged and buried his sword to the hilt in the back of the Balrog just as Celen had driven her blade through its heart, Erestor standing right behind his friend. She had already been severely burned, the Balrog's whip having wrapped itself around her, setting her flowing clothing afire. They had watched as the Balrog receded, falling into the chasm down below. For a split moment, Thranduil had believed everything would be well but then everything came crashing down. His beloved had wandered over to the edge, ensuring the Balrog was dead, then locked gazes with Thranduil. Her eyes told him everything.

Though his vision had been blurred by tears, seeing as he knew at once everything was lost, he had cried out to her but she had already fallen. Everything seemed to have happened in slow motion, Glorfindel bellowing with despair as he rushed to the edge, crashing to his knees, arm extended as he reached out for Celen, but she was too far gone. They had been left to watch as she tumbled lifelessly through the air and into the river far below, her body broken, and along with it, Thranduil's. So overwhelmed with grief and shock, Elrond had to bodily hault him up the broken bridge, Celeborn grabbing hold of them both and bringing them up to safety. Nothing seemed to connect with Thranduil, his body numbing from the shock he had felt. Glorfindel was freely sobbing, Erestor holding his friend close to him, tears streaming down his fair face as well. Celebrian had fallen, screaming in denial. She had just witnessed the death of her dearest friend, a woman she had long since loved as a sister. Thranduil did not know what to feel. His heart had completely shattered, his mind dulled, body numb. He couldn't feel anything. He remained kneeling there, staring into the chasm with unseeing eyes, his wife's death constantly replaying itself in his mind...

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

" _Thranduil_!"

Thranduil started to find Glorfindel shaking him, worriedly calling out to him.

"Glorfindel?" Thranduil confusedly looked at him.

"What happened, Thranduil?" Glorfindel asked the Elvenking, not bothering to release him. "You suddenly stopped speaking, fell onto the couch, where you remained, unresponsive! I feared something terrible had happened when you would not awaken from whatever reverie you were trapped in!"

"It was no reverie." Thranduil averted his eyes to the window, where he could see Ithil just peeking above the mountains. "It was a memory."

Glorfindel seemed to know exactly of what 'memory' Thranduil spoke of and was silent for a moment.

"She would not have wanted us to mourn." Glorfindel softly spoke. "She would have wanted us to move on but to always remember her."

"Aye, she would have." Thranduil agreed, a small smile playing at his lips. "I am sorry, mellon-nin, for having brought up such painful memories." he apologized, but Glorfindel shook his head.

"Do not apologize. They are good memories."

They sat in companionable silence before Thranduil turned to face the Balrog Slayer.

"Glorfindel, tomorrow, I am going to search for the twins." He raised his hand when Glorfindel made to object, "You are in no condition to look for them so I will go in your stead. I have but one favor to ask of you."

Curious, Glorfindel looked up at his friend. "And what would that be?"

"Please watch over my children during my absence. Especially Nordawyth. She can be rather...rash."

Glorfindel nodded. "Of course." Thranduil then stood to leave, but before he stepped through the door, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Glorfindel?"

"Hm?" The Balrog Slayer perked up at hearing his name and looked to Thranduil, wondering what he had to say. Keeping his expression impassive but narrowing his eyes on the Elf, Thranduil drawled,

"I know."

Glorfindel paled, not needing Thranduil to elucidate his meaning behind the two words. He stuttered, much to Thranduil's amusement (But of course, he did not show it), as the King turned away from his friend, a smirk gracing his lips as he shut the door behind him, listening to Glorfindel's stuttering as he started walking down the hall.

* * *

 _ **-Granted-**_

 _ **Oh my word...Over 7,000 words,...Whewwie, this was a long chapter! Longer than I intended it to be! Yeah, it's pretty gloomy in the end there, but it will get happier, I promise!**_


End file.
